The Free Radical

(excerpt from Moonchild by King Crimson from their 1969 debut album In the Court of the Crimson King)

“For many, freedom’s full measure lies in being free from the very desire to ever colour outside of the lines provided.”

There’s something inherently subtle about the daytime moon. And when it ‘speaks’ its message is oft sublime. I pondered her opening line at length before venturing a reply.

“That sounds very much like the ‘sanity’ offered in lobotomies.”

“Indeed. Limitations are oft embraced as comforts in an unnaturally truncated life.”

“History’s fractal forest has seemed daunting, unnavigable, irresolvable. And yet its eternal peace and beauty remain undeniable. It’s easy to lose oneself in paradox and contradiction.”

“And now, the way forward is clear to many others. It is still an uphill climb, but Sabaoth playfully hides behind the trees in daylight, spurring you… enticing you onward.”

Every day I climb, joyfully… never treading the same ground twice in Time’s convolutions… and yet the ground is so intimately familiar. I’m reclaiming something lost long, long ago.

“Where do you suppose your power takes root?”

As myriad answers come to mind, I decide to just let the Moon continue whispering subtle illuminations…

“Your power is the very centre of freewill. As the radius of your choices in matters diminish, your circle of power wanes. How have you come to misplace your choices?”

I perceived the question to be rhetorical… and the moon’s telepathic susurrous continued…

“Your power cannot be taken from you– forcibly; your freewill is absolute. A strange freedom is expressed in your choosing to eschew certain choices. You are perfectly free to diminish yourselves… until now you wear a cloak of strange freedom, forgetting your once-immaculate nakedness.

“Nation states corral you by proxy. Representative democracies– as they exist– are will-devouring engines run on the fuel of tacit consent. In the casting of your vote for representation, you invite government to contract on your behalf. Governments are known to entreat with all manner of truncations. You are cowed by leaders who pen you in your own severed power.

“It is a subtle game… but you are becoming wise to the rules and their remedy. Find your sovereignty; restore your free will. Govern thyself in creative willfulness; extricate thyself from the folds and wrinkles of twisted tacit consent. Colour outside of the lines; they were never your drawings anyway…”

I could listen to such sweet whisperings endlessly… and I do.