Who would not be grateful to know that there were many that appreciate what they had to offer in much of their writing. But then there are other times that this might not be so. Some idea come to light that are not popular to the currency of the times but still need to be posted. Not because they are proper or incontrovertibly correct or even more provable than their diametrically opposites. But because they linger in the mind tormenting the consciousness needing to be addressed. That is the essence of thoughts fertilized into the egg of knowledge. In a society that takes itself seriously in professing its own freedom to speak and unabashedly express. The author not needing to explain themselves outside of the context of their own work.
It is equally true that in these over-stressed times most people want to escape the semblance of reality into the utopia of a distant self. Live life for a moment at a different address with the mustache and phony bushy eyebrows of an interesting other. To sail in the mind over mysterious landscapes in hot air balloons reliably cooked by a decent writers imagination. Lay back and close one’s eyes on a fabled carpet far above the saffron clouds the atmosphere drenched in myrrh. All this and more and anything else over the old rusty steel appearance of heavily earthbound pat answers. Even if that fantasy retold is laced with stringy threads of political venom that not too subtly attempts to broadcast a strangely familiar unilateral sense of tired opinion.
This is the golden age of the ideologue. Another successive Götterdämmerung cast into the twilight of mythical replacement cartoon gods who cannot presuppose morality outside their own most treasured narrative. Worshiped by hordes forever faithful in lockstep that consider any and all cut from a different cloth as natural opponents and subsequently intellectually bankrupt. The popularity of public discussion in decline like a herd of camels in full tilt towards a sewing needle size portal of Occam’s I-Phone. No one can formally argue a point with those others who have a religious sense of duty in advancing their own self-empowerment substantiated by a lifetime of unilateral indoctrination that refuses to acknowledge change. The totalitarian mind space of the central square of Marxist continuity where the advance of mankind becomes a ouroboros forever circling down upon itself. The why’s and wherefore of former equally fallible generations cast in the quicksilver of a dubious currency of shifting morality. Should any author set sail due West to avoid same through the battling polarities the only assurance available to navigate by the clouded sky upon this endless ocean of potentially viable information being that they will eventually become becalmed or waterlogged in that Sargasso sea’s Neptune-like grip cast far afield of what the world has finally become.