I know everything about you but you know nothing about me. Result omnipotence and Godhood on my part. The modern world has surrendered too much. Or should I say the commercial world within which all members of same sit upon a virtual shelf UPC coded with demographics freely shared about by mega-corporations through a government information well-spring that never ceases to flow. So many contribute to their own demise by simply surrendering any detail when asked through the smoke screen of security questions that if they bother to recall they have never been asked in the first place. Stuff that just innocuously pops up when the are asked a question. A number of parasitic superstates like lampreys actively engaged in the datum mining of the public supposedly as an offshore contractor but in reality a rival. The mindset of the public soaked in brine and dried so brittle that it will believe any lie that is persistently repeated and repeated , and repeated , and repeated in the present as supported by a ‘topsy turvy‘ read of a mountain of inversions of the acts from the past. When truth suffers then the those who are foolish to allow themselves to continually fall prey to it’s opposite will suffer the greatest.
The undulating harp strings of this current President election cycle ceaselessly resound with the same message to those who still have an remaining ounce of reason to see the Armageddon of falsehoods that have been rolled out ‘en masse‘ to defeat an unlikely rival those major danger is that he is willing to unashamedly tell it like he sees it. A big awkward baby-like man child who cares not for the Kabuki of artifice that has come to stand in for the extinct dinosaur of integrity. As with all other ages of man, children and women cannot seem to grasp the reality that they are being so easily conjured by sweet words and noble fictions that are literally leading them to an imminent slaughter. The sound of the perpetual Grim Reaper sharpening his scythe is literally heard coming to a crescendo across Europe and our borders from its source in the Middle East. If someone where to tell me theta the portal of Hell was located there I would assuage my agreement. The hand basket on the express route is carrying us all away. There is a vampire in our house and tits entry into our lives sits in our hands and laps every day posing as a common device of communication and information. It can open up false worlds that simulate reality but it cannot replace the ‘real thing‘. The resonance of commercialism so ingrained in the head that the poison spread connects automatically to the recreational sewage of a sugary internationally marketed comes to mind with the utterance of this simple phrase. I could suggest to the fraction of a percent that they might take heed of this. But from the talk on my street in my general vicinity people are too busy putting their names on the list for securing the best deck chairs on the back of our immense collective virtual Titanic.