Humanity, dear one, has been lovingly evolved by our creator as an apex nurturer rather than a predator. The genocidal roots in every human are simple to trace, yet our story is one of cooperation and love also. It is the story of our inner struggle between virtue and vice. The apex nurturer has learned virtue. The apex predator has learned vice. Each believes their values are superior. The path of virtue will lead to a heaven on Earth. The path of vice will lead to a hell on Earth. So, take your own inner battle to become a good person with all seriousness, your task to learn true virtue... the future of the world depends upon it.
The drive toward variation meets the drive toward conformity for group safety in opposite directions. The relative power of these forces in the neurology of each organism and the society will determine the strength of each. Variation is favoured by safety and has the power to drive creativity and discovery. Conformity is favoured by adversity in all forms, a recipe of negative factors combined. It is, however, worthy of note, that these forces are not equal. The history of humanity is a bloody tale of genocide. Thus only the survivors are our collective ancestors. Thus the drive toward conformity is a preparation for war and is amped in power by comparison. Thus in times of fear the proper leaders must have an upper brain (PFC) capable of dominating their primitive drive and converting that amped power into solution finding over war strategy. It is a simple switch, yet all leaders must possess the ability for such.
When I see the slaughter of a dolphin or whale pod, the word that comes to my brain is "genocide." To my heart and soul they are as sentient as we humans, and this killing must stop. That we need them as part of our ecosystem, that without them the algae that makes 85% of our oxygen will begin to die, is the biological gun to the heads of all who "don't care." Sooner or later, biological science will make you care. Let's hope everyone starts to care in time.
Show me a conspiracy theorist, and I'll show you someone in pre-genocide mode, getting a chemical high from the anticipation of violence.
If hateful stories can start genocides, stories of love can protect us from them, so let's take the technology of creative storytelling seriously and be entertained into better population wellness.
Genocidal leaders and cult leaders can sway entire populations and groups into becoming murderous or suicidal with nothing more than stories that invoke fear, decreasing critical thinking, empathy and self control; what could we achieve for world peace with stories consciously written to bring out the innate superheroes in us all, that help us to see new perspectives, be creative thinkers, become stronger in empathy and psychologically mature enough to have real bravery?
Racism is a necessary step toward genocide; when members of one group perceive threat from the other (real or imagined) the war of words and imagery begins to both tie the "other" to the parts of the brain that deal with disgust and emotional indifference and to "rally the troops." It is an old technology to wire the brain for good or ill that we should speak of. The "other" can be any group that can be defined by the racist (and the same is true of religious intolerance and other warfare). The time to take high note of the words and pictures tied to sectors of humanity and how they alter our brain wiring, brain chemistry and behaviours is now.
When one brain operating system attacks another the result is often genocidal behaviours; this is the danger of inflexible thinking. If what one side needs to be sane and happy removes the same feeling from another side, they will fight; that's how basic we still are as animals. Instead of enhancing our creativity to find ways to come together, to find unity and harmony, we devote ever more resources to war. The only way out is to go back to our default operating system, love, the one we are born with. Otherwise the genocide, the war, the hate, will spiral into the destruction of all we have built, all the wonderful and diverse societies we cherish.
Genocide, eight letters to describe more murders and pain than the human mind can take in. After one or two deaths there is a catastrophic malfunction and no more is understood, no more emotion forthcoming. One dead child is a tragedy, a thousand of them is a news report between adverts. I'm here though, I'm here on the ground surrounded by the bodies of those I loved, unable to comprehend how my own species could do this. Closest to me is Jennie, seven years old and skipped around the schoolyard with a wide smile. Next to her is eight year old Rosie, the one who wanted to save the whales and sail the oceans. Right in front of them is Ryan, only six and he already wanted to fly spaceships around the galaxy. I could go on but who would read it, who would listen? They were all special, all beautiful, and now they are meat for the buzzards. Perhaps that is the problem with bringing math to issues of humanity, don't tell people numbers, tell them names, who the victims were on the inside. Always humanize, not dehumanize.
The wrongs of my ancestors are not mine, yet our enemy comes regardless - to kill me and every one of my kin. We weren't the ones who committed the crimes that drive their bloodlust, but they want us dead from newborn to elderly, no survivors. Perhaps once they were the innocent party, the ones so wronged, but no longer. They have learnt the thrill of the kill, the sick joy of evil that comes with wanton violence and destruction. We have learnt to keep the thrill of evil at bay with meditation and love, grace and forgiveness. We repented and leant from our society's past mistakes. Even though we have become peaceful, pacifist in most regards, we are driven to take arms in self defence. If it's them or us, I choose us, no contest, no guilt. They burnt every olive branch offered and I won't hesitate to defend those I love.
The end times came when baby girls were being murdered in their millions within the womb. It was a holocaust of the unborn. Those girls born became in short supply and instead of being cherished all the more they were in danger of being attacked, traded, bought like cattle. Without love they became depressed and in the violent sink hole that society had become the men were their number one cause of death and injury. Without Love they couldn't reach Him, and instead were trapped in a hellish brutal existence.
Without the love of women the men deteriorated, violence begetting violence and in a twisted way some came to enjoy dominating the fairer sex as masters. The creator, being a loving God, could not stand back and let the planet He created to be heaven turn into hell, and so He returned. The people were given a chance to amend their ways, to honour their women and girls and return to forming loving families. He extended His love and told them that women are equal to men, and the infanticide was a crime against God and women. He said that real men are protectors, brave, courageous and kind - not Neanderthals who would murder their own daughters before they had a chance to be born. The message was extended and then He waited for the response...
"It's coming, Claire. Every time I turn on the God damn news it's all I see, dehumanization and the ramping up of fear."
"Those people are really doing those things, Jack, it isn't fiction."
"I know, I know. But why are they doing it? And why don't I hear about the billions or ordinary muslims doing good things? It's a prelude to genocide, see!?"
"I think you need to calm down. No-one likes this 'new world' much, but you can't let it get to you like this. The government will take care of it, you'll see."
Jack threw his hands in the air and let out a noise like the opening of a fire hydrant. "Your mind is already prepared to take whatever 'fix' they suggest. Tell me, are you looking for a 'final solution'?"
Claire stopped cold and just stared. "If I'm such a monster perhaps you should just go. And just so you don't forget, it was me that gave human rights speeches at school, not you. It's me that still volunteers at soup kitchens and fund raisers to build schools in Africa."
I wonder if the old residents abandoned their homes willingly and at least kept their lives. I'll never know, the flushing out of the undesirables that lived here was before my time. Our history books talk of how they planted bombs and decapitated their enemies, that it was us or them. But my mother will tell a different story when we are away from prying ears. She says they were just ordinary people, her friends, neighbours. They lived ordinary lives and loved God, though they called Him by a different name. But once the schools were attacked nobody would listen to reason. They watched a row of tiny coffins move down the street carried by their mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters. Then they stood back and let the army take them into “safety zones,” concentration camps by any other name. There is talk of the property now being forfeit to the government and sold at auction. On our country walks all mom will ask is “Where are they now?”
The genocide had been coming like a slow motion train wreck. For years the fear and propaganda had been increased, just a little at a time. Nadine had made the connection between the current climate and the pre-world war II vilification of the Jews some time ago. It was easy to think of those Germans as evil, but such black-white thinking was dangerous. Those Germans were decent hard working family people made to hurt and fear, then supplied with a scapegoat and a final solution. It was people thinking themselves superior that allowed it to happen again. We were no better, no wiser, no smarter, just as simple to manipulate. First the "muslim terror" had been abroad and more heinous than hollywood movies. Then it came to our own shores in waves of attacks. Once the electorate started to think with their primitive survival brains all sympathy for the "enemy" was gone. They were inhuman after all, we'd all seen that on the televisions. With the coming "solution" came the resources grab...
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