What is “John the Baptist Kills Sacred Cows?”
Welcome to John the Baptist Kills Sacred Cows. You’re probably asking yourself, “Isn’t John the Baptist a religious figure or something? And just what the hell is a sacred cow anyway? I was promised articles on economics, sex and psychedelic drugs?”
Those are fair questions, but stick with me. It’ll all make sense, I promise.
Growing up in a hyper-religious family in the Midwest, I was surrounded by beliefs that were not only accepted as absolute truth, but forbidden from questioning for fear of blasphemy. From a young age, I pushed back against these ideals, even though I didn’t fully understand WHY I was doing so. It wasn’t so much that I disagreed with what I was taught, I just hated that it was considered unquestionable, that these doctrines were irrefutable truths and must be accepted as so. “If they’re so irrefutable, why can’t they hold up to scrutiny?”
When I left the nest and made it college, I realized that the sacred cows didn’t end with conservative Christianity…
Sacred Cows are all around us.
Which brings me the question: What is a sacred cow?
Sacred Cows are all the things we believe, and are taught to believe, that are considered unquestionable truth. The ideas, beliefs, or rules we accept as part of existence, and even though they do not serve us—and more often actively enslave us—their authority and necessity of being we protect fervently from any dissent. We do this because to allow them to be challenged would threaten the very foundation of our reality and cast us into the uncharted waters of free thought and the personal responsibility of objective truth. Sacred Cows shield us from having to think for ourselves.
And I want to kill them all.
In the ten-thousand year war between dark and light, freedom and slavery, truth and lies…humans have historically not treated the messengers well who came to tell them their gods were false. People like the comfort of their idols.
John the Baptist was one of those messengers.
John the Baptist was a prophet from the New Testament— a hermit who, after spending years in the wilderness, returned with a message to deliver. A message proclaiming a new and better way. A forerunner to Jesus, he “was not the light,” but “came as a witness, to bear witness to the light, so that through him everyone might believe."
In essence, he was the messenger before the message.
As is often the case, the first messengers aren’t usually well received. Wild and unkempt, John was unpopular with the religious and political establishment which he ruthlessly criticized. An establishment that would eventually have him executed for subverting their authority.
But dead or not, John was right. The message was still coming. Jesus came and preached the gospel, and many listened and followed.
I’ve always felt a special kinship with John the Baptist. While him and I preach a…ummm, slightly different message, our intent is the same: to challenge the status quo and offer a new way. Both of us are early adopters of new ideas that promise freedom from the chains of the old gods. And apparently, both of us aren’t always the most palatable messenger. Whether it’s a political philosophy or an alternative financial strategy—or the benefits of psychedelic medicine or fasting—I can’t tell you how many times I’ve hammered on an idea I believe in to someone I love—which they tolerate politely, but generally ignore—only to have them come to me later, excited about the same idea; the only difference being that they heard it from someone who wasn’t me.
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I spent my twenties systematically killing all the sacred cows in my own life—all the ideological beliefs I held that were in contradiction, things that I would not or could not defend, but refused to let go of. They all had to die. That was all fine and good—though a little odd, people thought—until I started coming after their sacred cows as well. I see how these sacred cows enslave us, all the while wrapping us in a warm, opioid-like haze that protects us from having to think about the things we don’t want to. I see how their universally accepted existence is used to justify the worst in human behavior, and to stifle free will. Sacred Cows are deeply personal and—like John the Baptist—people haven’t always appreciated my message. Especially if it’s the first time they’re hearing it. However, I am far from alone. Others preach it too.
The ideas of freedom and peace, of challenging the establishment (the old guard that dictates the way we think and act) and conventional patterns of all kind…. are quietly growing.
Arthur Schopenhauer gave us The Three Phases of Truth:
1. Ridicule.
2. Opposition and persecution.
3. Widely accepted as fact.
I believe we’re somewhere between Phase 1 and Phase 2. In many ways, there’s been a regression; people are doubling down on the old gods. The State has become the new lord and savior, with devotion to the government the new faith. Science, once based on the foundation of meticulous process, cross examination, peer review, and dissenting opinion has become an unquestionable religion; administered over by the new priests (politicians and scientists), the altruism of whom it is blasphemy to mistrust. Like the bishops of the old Catholic church who fought tooth and nail to prevent the translation of the Bible from Latin to the common tongue, this modern-day political clergy hold themselves as purveyors of knowledge they alone can interpret—interpret, and thus instruct. Those who dare to question the motivations, logic, or infallible nature of the masters, are swiftly besieged by the pitchforks wielded by their devout congregations. For free thought, ridicule and frenzied opposition are to be expected.
All is not lost, however. In other aspects of society, encouraging signs of truth in Phase 3 are visible. Though long maligned and demonized, psychedelics and the exploration of the mind are in the midst of a beautiful renaissance. The “war on drugs” has foundational cracks that are beginning to show. Therapy and the acknowledgement of mental health is no longer looked down upon. Opponents of same-sex marriage have become an easily ignorable minority. People are challenging Wall Street’s monopoly of their financial future and taking control of their own lives through knowledge and true education. They’re taking control of their health. They’re challenging long held archetypes and rethinking the way they engage in interpersonal relationships. And even more exciting, each and every day more and more people begin to question the necessity of the warfare and welfare State they’ve been conditioned to accept from birth.
And the list goes on.
Everywhere there exists an establishment—health, medicine, education, politics, finance, religion, etc—there exists a group of people who have a great deal invested in preventing you from looking behind the curtain. The charlatan’s power is in the illusion.
I want you to look behind that curtain. I want you to ask questions. I want you to free your mind. I want you to cease pledging blind allegiance to sacred cows that trample you underfoot and do not serve you.
I want people to be free. My dream is a great awakening. A consciousness shift in humanity towards the sovereign individual and personal accountability. I want to see generational patterns broken. I want to witness people seizing control of their own lives—of their thoughts, their careers, their relationships. I want them to take control of their own happiness.
You might not like what I have to say. You might not like me. You might think me a madman or call me a fool. And that’s okay. But if you’re willing to consider, you will find that everything I do is intentional. I don’t have all the answers. On the contrary, the more I learn, the more I realize I don’t know. I’m not a guru and I’m not here to tell you what to think. I am, however, here help you examine how you think and why you think it. I want you to think for yourself and to choose the paths in your life with deductive reasoning and conscious intent, not because someone or some group neatly laid them out for you to dutifully follow. Worst case, you’ll be forced to think about why you don’t like something I have to say. And that’s a start.
I don’t need to be the one you listen to—as I’ve said, there are many others—but I, like John the Baptist, just want to make sure the ideas are heard.
