The entire world cult saturated with itself literally sick on its own process of didactic. Nothing fresh could permeate the cyst of daily rhetoric that issued about one topic and one topic only. Even the pattern of speech was befouled by cyclic rhetoric. The jargon that was considered as longstanding had fragmented into tiny ego bound flourishes of pseudo intellectual drift in contractions and finally single letter based acronyms. The place of babble. The soothsayers could only ask themselves was this a problem and then return to their respective chambers after a long day’s interaction with their own pickled thoughts to preserve their position as forward thinking hierophants. Their business on air denigrated to a static form of song and dance from the waist up. Borrowed terminologies from peoples holding practice over a longer stretch of millennia serving as a means of extending the thesaurus to in cooperate ever more of the arcane. The closely directed fantasies scheduled to be implanted in the minds of mankind carefully devised by stale formulas that were said to bring comfort by virtue of their regularity in assuring that nothing signifiant had occurred the day before and enhancing the impression that not ever would in the days to come. The realm of awareness had been transposed from one lobe to the other so that the conventional logic of the day now read from left to right instead of right to left. The convenience of the argument being that there were only two possible answers. It all sounded convincing. But it was an empty proposition. The surrounding area only providing impressions of times past and incidents that were momentarily raised from their cold storage locker of all things permanently lost. A mental junkyard whose clutter one could no longer navigate but simply gave up and remained locked in the prison of one’s habitual consciousness at home once again each night. that was an approximate description of what the land was like. The dead would have their day once more yet again.
It all Sounded Good Until . . .