Holidays and holiday

No Matter the Arsonist 

No matter the arsonist—as Rome burns, Emperor Nero lounges in Antium, moved by the beauty of the flames. Children scream in the blaze, and he takes a vacation. In Gaza, children are exterminated in the name of protection from terrorists—a country at war with the destitute. Bombs fall, and politicians go on vacation. You don’t need bombs to destroy everything; starvation and humiliation will do. The self-righteous, in their enclosures, walled off from the wretched, take vacations earned through the silent massacre of restrictions.Slaves have no people; they are the universal nourishing substrate of exploiters—their color doesn’t matter. Shielded from racism, they endure the most degrading inhumanities. We’ve developed hypocrisy and empathy to apply a glossy finish. Now, many have become alienated, subjugated—they love their dictators. No real vacations for them. Along the prescribed paths, they rest only to better serve. In the lumber camps, the horses were given shelter first. Everyone seeks a hiding place, a filter for uncertainty—they bargain away their freedom: in corporations, in cliques of the wealthy, in unions—paid by those who live in constant affront and doubt. At last, they too can indulge in vacations. Meanwhile, others have chosen the gamble of earning a living with no certainty—the naive, the entrepreneurs who believe in rules and fairness, who believe in the recognition of merit, who believe in more than monetary profit: the human profit of quality. They endure judgment and advice from cowardly armchair critics. They never take vacations—every worry follows them everywhere. I wish restorative holidays to those who cannot take any. One day, their turn will come—when they emerge from human misery. To take a vacation, one must be present. But vacancy—that is absence. Many of our values are vacant. 

— Jacques Gagnon, engineer, CEO of Imagem