Morgan Freeman needs to narrate us out of this mess: Idea #0019

Artsy Photo: Click for full size. This image represents gum flavor #317 B

Artsy Photo: Click for full size. This image represents gum flavor #317 B

Our planet’s soul needs a smooth, somber, soothsayer to speak the hard solutions to our most dire impending disasters, softening the unpalatable blow for the masses.

It needs someone to narrate the humans into actions that extend beyond shouts and finger pointing. Morgan Freeman’s mouth could pontificate upon the behavior of the planet’s asses. Yet that narrative frees no one. That oration is unproductive.

Instead Freeman should free us of our ignoble apathy, our inaction against injustice, our terrible self inflicted curse of worldwide enfeeblement and decay. Many have mentioned that Morgan’s voice is markedly powerful, and as many have suspected, it is true that when Morgan Freeman is involved in a documentary, he narrates it first and then mother nature makes it happen (

Therefore we must plead for the unwavering, deep as ocean water baritone of Morgan Freeman, and a few talented writers to prepare a script of world saving actions to be read aloud injecting the world with wisdom laden words that describe a series of mitigating steps against its woes. Perhaps a smooth molasses, contrabass saxophone jazz Freeman narrative can catch the runaway shipwreck of human society and slow it with gradual friction. Then, once the long, rolling sound waves of his voice have gently tugged the doomed societal sails and slipped them into the sedentary still of waters becalmed, the monologue of Morgan can safely nudge humanity’s fragile vessel and maneuver it into tamer currents within the cause event waters of space time’s progression with a few softly spoken directives. We need a flawless narrative, something similar but far superior to the following:

Light encroaches the horizon. African dawn three million years ago, enter the hominids. Timid, defenseless creatures barely scraping by, slendered by near starvation, the australopithecines, in their vulnerability were dependent upon one another. Gradually that dependency engendered both connection and community, but also paranoia and suspicion, all of which persisted through the ages. As humans sprouted from the nurturing soil of hominid evolution, the seemingly minute drawbacks of the latter qualities were magnified into increasingly disastrous proportions. As they were crammed closer together by the shackles of reproduction’s fruits, hominid dread of difference spurred increasingly frequent unspeakable acts. Neighbor on neighbor annihilation escalated in cruelty and volume. Self destruction simmered in the twentieth century steam and stink, and upon the hazy morn of the twenty first, it was brought to a boil by the flaming belch of steel arrows. The splattering overboil seared and blistered all remnants of global sanity. So ensued the dance of swine. Oinking and squealing, naked and pink, bulbous and flabby, the Sus scrofa sapiens sashayed upon the high towers raining down fetid sweat and excrement onto the floor of the globe where all life slept. They guttled the riches nestled within earth’s sweet crevices leaving only crumbs to fall through the gravity filter, all whilst their porcine siren shriek pierced those beneath with needling fear. “Don’t look up,” they snorted and snuffled, “the danger is beside you, not above.”

Artsy Photo: Click for full size. This image represents the National association of fingerpaint injury victims.

Artsy Photo: Click for full size. This image represents the National association of fingerpaint injury victims.

“You’re sad because you lack the right gadget to organize your life. You need the shiny new gleam of widget number five. It plans your dinner, counts your steps and heartbeats, documents your desires and heartaches, and tracks your location. What’s that you say? You can’t afford it? That’s all right. We know just what’s wrong. It’s those others who stepped across the invisible line to stand next to you. They’re to blame. They take what’s rightfully yours. They hate your freedoms. They hate your values. They make war on your beliefs and mock your god. Because they won’t stop fighting you, the cost of your life goes up and the quality goes down. Let us help you fight them. Meanwhile swallow this pill and linger not on your woes. You’re too ugly; let us help you hide it. You’re too fat; let us help you burn it. You’re full of self loathing; look at these stumbling boobs on TV and feel better. Are you hungry? Look at this savory slab of sirloin dripping with juices, smothered and covered in cream. The sizzling treat is salubrious. We promise. Look right, look left, look down, look forward, look back, but don’t look up. You have no time. The others around you want to harm your children.” So sung the human swine as they stuffed their faces atop the high tower and danced their vile steps on clicking cloven hooves.

Then, slow and sudden as sunrise, several learned humans stretched their necks skyward and saw the filth falling from the high tower and knew that they had naught to blame but themselves. “Lo the high tower that we all constructed,” they cried! “Lo the stench laden behemoths we willingly support! Hearken for they feed us falsehoods from their grunting snouts to feast upon our insecurities! Hearken, there is fear in their squeals and our awareness brings shudders to their fat, dangling flesh! They subjugate us with fear because they are just as afraid!” Thus cried the learned.

Artsy Photo: Click for full size. This image represents the home of a new kind of bark.

Artsy Photo: Click for full size. This image represents the home of a new kind of bark.

Finally the people, ruminating in the dreary muck that they and the high tower pigs created, decided that it made no difference how many deities reigned above. They realized that those disputes were disguises. Yes, there were blood feuds between families that spanned generations and centuries. Yes, true injustice had visited, and modern injustice was indiscriminately dispensed on high from coin operated robot turnstiles, and whining drones preceded undeserved doom. Difficult as it was, the humans set these facts aside in a gesture of reconciliation. It was time to discuss the real problem, the distribution of resources. Water, cool and clear, unsullied by pig feces, was precious, a soothing salve for all. No skin pigmentation, no minor variation in eyelid folds, cheek bones, or hair texture could change this equalizer. Fixating on such was how the foolish justified selfishness. Fresh water was loved by all. So the humans toppled the swine in their towers, freed water from the bindings of plastic tubes and broke the grinding gears that sought to enslave it. People needed food, space, a sense of value, a bit of love, and from time to time minor excess. These humble needs became harder to secure with each birth, but the humans overcame these hardships. They realized that they had surrendered an extreme excess of these needs to the swine in the high towers. They had surrendered so much that no hog, no matter how filthy and ravenous, could consume it all in ten lifetimes. They raped the pigs’ coffers and slaughtered the swine in a cleansing bloodbath. Then after they realized that resources were too precious to be hoarded, and that saving for their children could only extend so far, they planned. They experimented. They learned. For they knew now that with each new birth there was less to go around. Resource paint can only be spread so thin. If it was all placed on top of towers for a few, the foundation would crumble, and all would tumble and die.

Artsy Photo: Click for full size. This image represents a carton of lollipops upended over Niagara Falls

Artsy Photo: Click for full size. This image represents a carton of lollipops upended over Niagara Falls

Slumber sweet planet. The dark approaches, but light is always just a turn away.


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