Is humanity thoroughly satisfied? Can we now relax and place our trust in authority? After all, we don’t like to be inconvenienced. We indiscriminately eat what corporations sell us and indiscriminately consume what corporations present to us. Many of us don’t like saying, “No.” Many of us tolerate the tyranny. We give airlines, which shamelessly irradiate us, regular business. We don’t check our food for the genetic engineering label, and we’ve lost too much ground already. The war is not over. The war began before all of us were born and will stretch past the innumerable generations that follow. This is also a multifront war. Offensive attacks waged by the oligarchs originate from all directions, and the tactics employed by them typically contain more than one purpose. Nonetheless, the end game never changes. The powers that shouldn’t be want precise control over every facet of our lives, and our fertility is under attack.
In the age of cheap and fashionable technology, the dead no longer keep their secrets. The dead bombard the Internet with platitudes they parrot and banal media they upload. Their videos plead us to subscribe to their channels yet offer nothing of value, and their images plead us for validation yet offer nothing of interest. Everyone poses the same way and peddles the same tired slogans describing how unique they are. They become emotionally invested in vulgar, narcissistic celebrities and athletes. They clad themselves with arbitrary brand names completely unaware that they’ve morphed themselves into walking billboards. As this behavior reaps profits, society not only accommodated but normalized this specific case of delirium. Being a fanatic warped into being a badge of honor. Wrapped up in their tribe’s colors and logos, they’re oblivious to their uniforms turning into shackles. If our team loses, our irrational feeling of loss is commended. After all, we must prove our loyalty to a franchise or brand that never will and never should care about us. Regardless of any corporations’ sociopathic micro focus on the bottom line, the vicissitudes of the seasons and playoffs parallel our own. The spectacle of playing with balls takes precedence over making this place better for future generations. The dead are hopelessly compelled to feel a part of something but have a true stake in nothing.
Let’s imagine we can project our minds into the future. Will screens not leap closer to our eyes until the interface is embedded into them and soon afterward, into our brains? The story of the phonograph, the radio, the television, and the smartphone should startle conscious beings. However, the bond between human and machine will only entrance the average human. The average human is a fallen leaf, going where the violent, rushing current takes it. Any new toy under the spotlight of a marketing campaign will mesmerize them and if he or she keeps producing for the current technocracy, they will merge with machines and seal their fate as irredeemable slaves. Advertisements primarily were found on storefronts and billboards but leaped closer to us as the screens had jumped from the laboratory, to the theater, to the home, to the pocket and eventually, to the body and brain itself. Film from the 20th century showcased the working grunt spellbound before the glass of a shop. It’s eerie how one little piece of footage can depict the downfall of humanity itself. How very uninteresting a working grunt would be when nearly every thought revolved around buying, selling, buying, selling. Being underpaid and overworked enables the worker drone to buy but still remain virtually powerless. The more the drone sells, the less overpaid he is, but the more the drone sells, the more the spirit languishes. Generation after generation we transform the entire planet into a dumpster, a platform for buying and selling, going out of our way not to work together and cooperate.
The good relinquish their attachments to material objects. They recognize rituals of the heathen and withhold their participation in such activities. Gift exchanges, which are inferior forms of kindness occurring during certain times of year, are unhealthy social conventions that obligate us to spend money on one another. It’s excessive. Being kind and respectful should suffice. Instead of nurturing a deep respect for life itself, some of us grasp after death and surrender to the impulses of the beast. We plug our umbilical cords into anything we can. We seek not truth but lies to prop up our dreamy existence. Forever scouring the face of the earth for the comfort of a warm womb, we idolize the rich and denigrate the poor. Unsurprisingly, we cannot plug our umbilical cords into a poor person. The foolish hate the vulnerable. The vulnerable remind fools of their own vulnerability. Anything that contradicts the fairy tale we’ve created for ourselves we greet with hostility and incredulousness. Any spoken truth that shatters the lies of our supposed invincibility and imperviousness to danger will incite even greater animosity toward the weak. For some, weakness is characterized by a person lacking the financial resources to appease their infantilism. For some, the gift of kindness is taken for granted and dead plants and pointless rocks elevate social status. Whether male or female, status symbols become cheap trophies providing short lived validation. If we truly loved flowers, we would learn to grow them and would cringe at the sight of cut stems. Material gifts, such as dead plants, gems, and metals, intend to capture beauty by not only artificially packaging it but mutilating it.
American Internet culture reeks of putrid ignorance. Bombarded with smug users’ vitriol and shallow media, communication online disintegrated into a cesspool of rabid animals and instant pleasure seeking addicts. The marketplace and political tribalism dominate their online discourse. Images of cats and memes repeat on a never ending, soul sucking loop. It’s a flood of filth. Americans have been historically hostile toward British royalty, but Americans have given the royals of all nations plenty of reasons to be hated themselves. Even a subset of American Internet culture, which challenges authority with conspiracy theory, is bogged down by words like Illuminati, Red Pill, and Reptilian. As if watching a few videos and streamlining the acceptance of unfamiliar ideas led to their enlightenment, their words parade along the web, drumming up not only ignorance but more intense ignorance than ever before. Their general motto is as follows: “I have awakened. Now, my only purpose is to wake others.” More than likely, the same conspiracy theorists haven’t familiarized themselves with the works of Carroll Quigley, Antony C. Sutton, Manly P. Hall, and countless other authors who’ve poured their lives into their research. However, even with mounds and mounds of data, we all will struggle to grasp the totality of truth. I don’t recall reading a book created on a sturdy foundation of logic and research where the author describes the completeness of his understanding. I don’t think any author with an ounce of credibility would serve truth in convenient, bite size morsels because his or her consciousness supposedly reached the apex of understanding.
If we truly want to connect with others, let’s do without networking. This term is irreversibly damaged. It’s spoiled at its core, and it’s designed to be abused. No matter how compassionate we want to be, with networking, there will always be an agenda. Authentic conversations aren’t possible when our personal ambitions aren’t the furthest topic from our minds. Our insecurities, our salesmanship, and our desire to impress need to be squashed in favor of complete focus on the person in front of us and what we have to offer others. Compassionate speech and reciprocation must drive authentic conversation. Networking, in contrast, cheapens our conversation. We mar true communication by this aggressive drive to improve oneself, which of course, is concealed by a smile and a firm handshake. Similar to meditation, if we approach socializing with the mindset of getting something, we’ve already miscalculated and created situations ripe for disappointment. Let’s communicate without an agenda. Let’s be at ease. Without our ambitions gnawing at our consciousness, we’re free to give ourselves completely to others, and there’s plenty of individuals that do need our help.
When making a purchase, we’re declaring the worth of the company responsible for the sale – let’s not overlook the magnitude of this. The American public’s choice of Walmart over their local stores illustrates this perfectly. We not only allowed, but indirectly encouraged our small businesses to wither away and die off. These are entities that tend to care about the local community, but the American public voted with their dollars, and the gloom of cheap prices, cheap labor, and cheap quality products came roaring to the forefront. We sought cheaper prices, but what we really wanted was to fulfill a vision of a community that upholds family values, not a dehumanized labor market. Make no mistake, we’re not entirely innocent. We fed this pillaging retail monster with our unconscionable and reckless spending. Companies like this retail giant cannot dominate the market without us, and as long as we stay ignorant of their nefarious dealings and their wicked agendas and stay spiritually broken, we’re easily fooled by their false promises.
Do we think? Or are we automations? Perhaps we’re selecting convenient and soothing “truths” as if we’re ordering from a restaurant menu. Perhaps we have an innate ability to discern truth from lies, illusions, and political theater. We know it’s illogical to manufacture truth. We know we can’t cram truth to fit inside our insular world view. Truth cannot be replicated nor altered. Nevertheless, so many of us force ourselves to believe in lies, because truth does not fit in our established paradigm. We presuppose that the world can bend according to our ignorance, but the world can be seen without this distortion. The only prescription we need is awareness. Just stop. Stop. Pay attention to what we’re doing. There are many ways to help pause our stream of inane thoughts, and one such tactic is writing. Writing, as an extension of our brains, logs the experience and therefore, illuminates how we process the input traveling through our senses. We’re free to open up completely, because paper doesn’t judge. Free from the bondage of self-censorship, we’re more apt to detect any lies we tell ourselves. Cognitive dissonance might not slip by our consciousness as it does when debating with one another. When it’s just us, our thoughts, and the courage to see beyond our blinding biases, our fear dissolves.