Excuses, Excuses
I wonder how bad things have to get for a secret cabal of billionaires to decide to pull the plug on all their pet projects and watch the world collapse in an artificially induced economic disaster. I can only imagine that things got out of control, that plans went awry, and when their choices ran out, they decided to sulk. Perhaps it was an unexpected rise in true democracy, where the public had voted for their own interests, just for a change? Instead of doing what the pollsters expected, they stood up against the hegemony, the corporate autocracy, and ignored the pundits and the experts predicting economic calamity.
It’s rather like the tale of The Emperor’s New Clothes, except that when a thinly veiled global takeover breaks cover, it’s no laughing matter. If the majority had their say and for instance, broke unjust laws en masse, there’s very little the authorities could do. Except, perhaps to lie and spread yet more disinformation, and terrify the public, and convince them that if they continue their path to destruction, they will all suffer the consequences of their actions.
If it works and the people choose to imprison themselves, there’ll be no need to quash riots and revolutions. Instead, governments can pass new laws without the public’s knowledge. New controls, tighter than ever before, to degrade the masses and acclimatise them to a substandard existence, where sex is illegal and touching a crime, and recreation is dangerous, and all small businesses must die.
Make everything less inviting, punish those who socialise, encourage citizens to remain calm and use the internet to stay in touch with friends and loved ones. Bypass every law that’s ever been written, ignore democracy and human rights, treat people like diseased animals and eventually, they’ll think you’re right. Time is the key, patience the virtue, those who make plans conceive them generationally, there’s no point in terrorising the world for a few days at a time. You have to build up the tyranny, incrementally, over many years. Until eventually, everything is in its place, and the macabre show can begin.
Imagine if the internet had never taken off and the mobile phone remained unpopular. Without mass communication, rumours die a death, terrible diseases, and the spectre of war takes far longer to capture the public’s imagination. Sometimes years might go by without much notice, like the last soldiers of WW2, still fighting alone decades later on a Japanese island. That’s why so many countries are hung up on connectivity. They want fibre and 5G, and they want all the bandwidth the world can muster. For without it, people might lift their heads and look around them, and instead of listening to opinions on their favourite social networks, they might come up with their own.
They might consider the facts, take stats with a pinch of salt, god forbid they might even share their theories with others, instilling them with doubt. Before you know it, the public is running amok, ignoring the authorities, finding out the truth for themselves, which is why propaganda and controlled tests of human behaviour are the last redoubt. The final defence before the rich and powerful give up the ghost and release the dogs of war on the unruly and ungrateful masses.
The thing about a global economy is that it needs a lot of suckers, rubes to dupe with big-city dreams, taxpayers for the coffers. The young are a likely target; they’ve been force-fed lies since birth. Their whole existence informed by opinion-makers who rose the ranks on the back of gimmicks and memes, telling them what their sponsors want to hear. Rich and wealthy celebrities with too much time on their hands, in between gouging cash for their latest copycat renditions, promote the latest social propaganda. They’re down with the kids, up on all the latest trends, and if they’re not, they’ve money for a re-brand. Not like the poor old dolts gullible enough to give birth to another generation, who will turn on their progenitors at every opportunity, in order to proclaim their victimhood and display their credibility to their virtue signalling peers.
Surprise, surprise, sooner or later, we all get old and die. Then eventually, within a decade or two, those bright young things blaming the world for their troubles realise that they’re now the problem. The next generation will be even worse, for they’ll be as indoctrinated as their emancipated spawn, down on one knee begging for forgiveness that they were ever born.
It will take time and great suffering before the majority decides that their enemy are not their colleagues and compatriots, nor their sons and daughters or mothers and fathers, but the all-seeing eye and loudmouth that is The State. The artificial family of bureaucracy, engendered by taxes and police tyranny, founded on lies and propaganda, and perpetuated by bias media on a worldwide scale.
Then comes the realisation, and far too late in the offing to make any real difference, that the masses need to upend the hierarchy, to level the playing grounds of society. The future is not smart, asides technology, in fact it’s deaf and dumb. It’s wholly dependent on a constant flow of information to survive. Most of which will be poisoned by a hypocritical agenda, blaming the masses for what their leaders have done.
The order of fashion is the new fascism, statehood self-aggrandising in declaration of godlike wisdom. A proof without truth that negativity excels, and that those who want less and say nothing new, are saviours of the future. The generation that will witness the end of all time, standing back at the brink of collapse, killing civilisation for the sake of a paradigm.
Blame the past ad infinitum, ad nauseam, and keep your fingers crossed that history won’t notice the hypocrisy. A blanket submittance to a greater tyranny than we could ever have imagined. A life of ultimate compliance, paying debt with freedom and truth, living in adoration of the grey malaise of compromised dedication. Good luck to those with a full life ahead of them, for they will be sacrificed in the name of humanity, purgatorial dreams of conformity and banality, the pitiful offerings to an unfaithful god, created by committee and drained of all life’s blood.
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