Conversations with the uneducated neighbor of a Merry Christmas!- Have a look, the Western world celebrates Christmas, the biggest Christian holiday today. And on the TV as soon as the Christmas mass ended, twirled “Rimbaud“, “Strangers“ and still some American dregs. You represent, Christmas, “yes you love each other“, “do not kill“, “turn the left cheek“, and Rimbaud`s face splashed by blood of the enemies, in eyes hatred, and a hand a landing knife.
I look at the unemotional face of the vis-a-vis. It is ordinary-looking. Its voice is silent and is surprisingly quiet. But it is not hopeless. All fury of disagreement with the world in the past. All attempts to prove, inform, make oneself heard. A branding, contempt, hatred of the person who understood something very important, but whom most very few people understood. Breaking off of sincere hands and breaking in an abyss of loneliness and a neponyatost. In total behind, and now only a low, equal voice of the person who was able to see something important, but who was not wished to be listened.
- Christmas is not a holiday. Christmas is a shame. A shame for all of us. We celebrate birthday of the person whom we with undisguised pleasure crucified on a cross. We renounced it. Betrayed it. Threw. It and now over there, on a cross, and we go by it to church, and we think what we believers. Whether loved who it, and? To us not to rejoice, and to cry. And to wait for the second coming again to atone for the collected sins.
Why he tells it to me? I do not believe in God. I am a materialist and a few agnostic. In the world everything rotates under laws of the nature. Just these laws we know not all. And what we do not understand we attribute to Zeus, Jupiter, Allah with Jesus. And then to believe in this naive book, that the first person was Adam, and then there was Eve, and then Cain and Abel, and after them all people went. Went from whom? From Cain and his mother Eve? Other women were not there. Incest? Moreover and from the fratricide. Yes, heredity is good. I want to sleep, but I continue to listen to its low voice through a sleepiness.
- And you know, I to that saw off about a month the friend. Well, we stand means at some stop. And as to it to reach, we do not know. I look, the woman goes. I ask it how to reach there - that and there. She politely so begins to explain to me, with details. And other aunt stands nearby. And here the aunt also speaks, say you not absolutely truly explain. It is necessary not to get on this bus, and on another. Politely so. And suddenly the woman that explained how she will get irritated. As will lash out at it, nearly with fists. And let`s that cover with the last mats. I, speak, from church I go, was filled with the Holy Spirit, and here some idiot and the witch to me spoiled everything. And speaks, the idiot and the witch. And years fifty not less elderly such woman. How you think, this here the woman why goes to church?
- And such majority. It is noticed, the person is simpler, the stronger him belief. Believed in brownies and frights earlier, and now in god and any sacred personal belongings. And to the people to spit that Christians for two thousand years tortured tens of thousands of the innocent victims. For the sake of belief. Went to crusades with a name of the god, then dropped bombs with his name. With a name of god cut out nearly all aboriginals in the New World. Then their priests corrupted children. Well, indecencies in this Christianity was more, than in a present vakhabitstvo with all its terrorism. The next scandal with sexual abuse of juveniles as pedophiles in cassocks appear on the gilded balconies did not manage to calm down and wish all “Merry Christmas“. Ponder only - “MERRY CHRISTMAS“. One more holiday. Also let`s play tricks with Sangtami, pagan fir-trees, boozes and a gluttony.
- And here I know that I think, the neighbor? God, convenient at us. High such, stately and beautiful. Eyes at it light and deep. Regular features. Cine such. Directly Hollywood hero of Mel Gibson. And here it is interesting, we would love it crucified on a cross also strongly if it was humpbacked cross-eyed a pudge, and? I think, no. For such role the stately handsome is necessary. And why it surely Caucasian? Why not the Black? Or not the woman? you Know
, I you will tell whom was a Son Bozhy. He was not a person. He was a dog. Or even worm. Because he could not be a person if he was god and the savior of all weak and oppressed. Because the weakest it is not people. These are millions and millions of animals whom we torment, we kill, we devour.
God is a pine. Larch. The Amazonian wood which is ruthlessly cut down. God is the rivers and the lake to which we dump thousands of tons of poisons.
God is the earth …
It stops. Lights. Easy nervousness quickly takes place it. To what to concern itself on a subject on which broke a throat and all the same nobody understood? On light there live millions and millions of people which never ask such confused questions. Also live much happier life. Also die happy.
And all - I see that, despite external tranquility, and even indifference, it continues further the monologue, already without me. His eyes look in themselves. Lips are slightly moved. Strange what.
- And soon our Christmas. Or rather, them. These - he nods towards the ruffled head somewhere. Will go to church, will eat, drink … And nobody loves it. And it is necessary to nobody. Without it it is better. Just fear of Gehenna fiery and laziness. If today there was its second coming, then, is sure, it would be crucified with a bigger cruelty. Or would put on an electric chair. Or locked in a mental hospital. People when they without preparation tell them the truth do not love. Also appeal to their conscience. They Satanet then …
It suddenly stops as if told superfluous. Silently rises and leaves. Words hang in mid-air. Air is infected, saturated, it to pant. I approach to the door, I close it on the lock, I come back. I go to bed, I light in the dark. And words still continue to be groundless. Questions still wait for the answer. “Christmas and Rimbaud. At first we crucified him, and now we celebrate its birthday as if nothing was. Also appear it again, we would crucify him again. Because he would prevent us to enjoy even more sermons life. God is not the person. It is the earth, water, air, a bird, a deer. And we kill the earth, water, a deer. We kill the god every day. Merry Christmas. And what cheerful? The savior, and we him came to a cross. And now - a Merry Christmas. And from whom? From seducers, those whose one hand waves a censer, and the second blesses murderers, despots, tyrants“. I turn with a side sideways. In the head as if bees in a beehive, buzz thoughts. At last I am shrouded by a sleepy stupor, and I quickly fall asleep.