Wednesday, May 23, 2018

Stick your pageantry up your arse where it belongs


Hey! Where did everybody go?
These expensive and arguably elegant prisons are all you have to show for it?
These shiny cockroach cars, resembling more and more some sort of urban tank - air-condition and crash-cushioned; tech’ed up to the eyeballs, rear-view camera’d with guidelines for reverse parking.
Have we sacrificed all of our skills to the great god known variously as value for money*; progress; the new; the next level; the future… and more recently just plain la-la-la-lah! Buy me!?
Do we prostrate ourselves nightly before the TV-Eye, better described as The Voice of Authority; there to be fattened on a diet of sugar and shit; tomorrow’s lie is the same as today’s: Obey!?
Information is not the same as knowledge.
Information is in the hands of the powers that be, and still they want more, now they want our respect for their entrepreneurial skills; now they want us to love them; now they want us to suck their dicks.

*Surely a contradiction in terms

This was written on the occasion of the Marriage of a bastard prince to a mix-race princess. The princess's father was deemed a little too unsuitable (unwell) to attend. The princess was walked down the aisle by the cuckolded husband of the prince's mother, and all the peasants prostrated themselves in a mock orgy of adoration.

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