Musing on the Sun (satirical rant)

credit: stockxchng

credit: stockxchng

Everywhere I look, I see pro-sun propaganda. No one can deny that the sun is a life-bringing supplier of essential heat and vitamins and all things good, right?

credit: stockxchng

credit: stockxchng

Wrong! Instead, I submit that the sun is a dealer! Getting us hooked on vitamin D and artificial conditions inconsistent with the majority of the universe so that we are confined to the small sphere of existence to which it provides a constant fix.

In the meantime, it is sitting there, kept alive by the burning rage that it can't get just a little closer and snuff out our meaningless, parasitic existences. Always just a small overdose of radiation away from succeeding in ridding itself, a magnificent body of searing plasma that has no need of filthy constructs to thrive in the dark vacuum of space, of our annoyance.

Yet, without us and our ball of mud and gasses, its existence would have no meaning. The loneliness would be intolerable. So it keeps its distance, grudgingly providing us the building blocks of our inferior lives while we cower and marvel at the mixed blessing it bestows upon us.

Those of us with poor melanin production are tapped into this truth. Our skin doesn't revel in the mercurial touch of abusive Sol. It cringes and shrinks, dies and peels. Sometimes it throws up meager spotty defenses, particularly on those unfortunate enough to be born with hair the color of fire, as if in defiance of our blazing master.

 

credit: me via bitstrips