OK Boys and girls, what do you truly believe in as irrefutable our currently agnostic century? Certainly not in the value of the American dollar which like the stars in the sky has no real published limitation on its numbers currently in circulation. How about the structural integrity of modern skyscrapers that like a Joe Palooka are now known to take a dive straight down upon themselves and completely disintegrate at the most insignificant of taps from objects of infinitesimally less mass. But then there is that cornerstone of Western ‘how-to’ of the post War era that led to so many marvelous technological devices that moderate and spy upon us today. The Apollo moon landings! That time-honored evidence presented upon the TV sets of a thoroughly wowed international audience from then to now has like many other longstanding myths of potency turned out to be a fairy tale to anyone who is willing to not take it for granted. This of course is a level of official heresy to most that protectively cradle their I-Phones from waking to slumber as an emotional placebo replacing common sense like those children that they are unlikely ever to have. The notion of any public acknowledgement of the fact that our current rulers unlike their royal counterpoints of olden times having abandoned hired troops to monitor behavior every street corner in favor of 24/7 mental massage of ‘everyday reality’ is an anathema to that daily opiate, AKA, “freedom”.
The mentality of Disney’s fabrication of a Platonic shadow kingdom of morals and dogma playing continuously in the cavern that once held the practical skepticism of animal survival has disappeared. Kids from the current generation slop up their bowls of Maypo without comment along with their daily ration of organically safe Skittles. The footprint of the amalgamation of the corporate beast burned upon what’s left of their withering brain matter. Is it any wonder that so many have difficulty communicating successfully beyond the miniature pantomime of two-thumbed Text or Twitter? The level of performance of the straight-faced CG VFX never up to the expectation of more enlightened eras of a more technical proficient ability to deceive. In this ongoing soap opera fiction, no official player in official residence is ever taken to task unless they fall out of favor with the ruling elite. No Paul Revere dare raise a legitimate ‘hue and cry’ lest SWAT teams be immediately tasked with shooting him off his horse.
So it becomes a fundamental societal demand that one’s intellect be haltered by the emanations of the different technologically sophisticated iterations of the ‘boob tube’ which are to be taken for granted ‘ipso facto’ that elephants can fly and politicians don’t lie. The proof of this claim being in every street and sidewalk where one must cautiously weave in and out to avoid being impacted by the many so encumbered. That unimaginable world of concrete Physics having long floated away to the whimsy of so many participating Walter Mitty’s. A world where lunar dust cannot be displaced immediately below one’s LEM and confused shadows from hidden sources confound but are never acknowledged. Where the rules of parallax are no longer an abeyance and a director’s cue is furiously denied by official realties. This is the type of ‘Amistad’ that one is daily chained to totally naked to the pressures of misapprehension by one’s equally unfortunate fellows. All one can say is sit back before the eleven-hundredth sequel of the same, and enjoy the ride!