Prison...

I have a new thesis on life.

Here it is, the best prison is the one in which the prisoner does not want to escape.

Of course there have been many variations on that theme in literature, especially sci-fi (where all of life's truths can be found), where the prison in question is surrounded by inhospitable and unsurvivable climates (ice-Star Trek V, Fire-Crematoria from Chronicles of Riddick, inhuman and desolated wastelands-Australia). However, the prisons I had in mind were a little more close to home.

There are no wardens and the prisoners lock the doors from the inside. They even get to fill their cells with contraband and the lucky ones can choose their cell mates. The exercise yard is pretty big with lots of interesting stuff to do, but work needs to be done to get any at any of it.

Alright, this metaphor is getting painful...but by thesis is this is no metaphor. The last free human died hundreds of thousands of years ago. Not once then, in all existence has anyone lived completely unfettered by any restraint. This is rudimentary social philosophy, we all need some contract or agreement to ensure mutual social benefits. This must entail some forfeit or limitation of freedom. But what has arisen from this is something few if any will acknowledge. That we have physically imprisoned ourselves within prisons that we have not only worked and paid for, but that we continue to provide to others for the right to be there.

In other words, we are continually supporting a system that makes us fear the outside of our prison walls.

But what do I mean by all of this?

more cereal and coffee are required before i am able to illustrate