The majority shareholders in Empire UK employ two agencies to take care of the controls.
Agency 1 is the Ministry of Propaganda
Agency 2 is the Ministry of Division (not to be confused with the Division Division which consists of only 2 civil servants who spend their days throwing insults at one another).
Agency 1 is the Ministry of Information.
Agency 2 is the Home Office.
These agencies are a powerful weapon that has been moulded and manipulated and pointed directly at the populace.
Don’t believe me?
Look again:
These tools range from ancestral prejudice and regional pride; the flags of your neighbour to boil your blood; to fingering the wounds inflicted during the empire’s murky military peak.
These tools range from psychological profiling, focus groups and, to some degree, that which they can fish from the myriad waters of The Social Media.
At the blunt end of The Home Office’s toolbox are the Police (Or the Police Force, to give it its more accurate title.)
It is no mystery why the Police Force is generally uniformed in Black & White.
The Police Force has no interest in propaganda, believing as it does, that it is an entity unto itself; a truly binary entity whose individual atoms are well aware that the undefined area between definitions of lawful and unlawful are where any situation is most easily exploited to their advantage.
And, if that fails to convince the non-complier, then The Police Force is the baton hand that reigns down blows before the erect penis of the Ministry of Division.
One way or the other these agencies are tasked with making sure that you obey.
And what, you ask, are the Major Shareholders doing while all this is happening down here on the street?
What are they doing besides devising ever more complex ways of ‘making’ money and accumulating power?
Is it beyond belief to think that the brainchild behind this headlong dash toward the abyss is nothing more than some rodent with a chip on his shoulder, one who is determined to take over the world no matter the consequence; because he is merely a winner and he wants to be the winner?
The Ministry of Division has become so efficient in its primary function that it has failed to notice that the resultant grains of its successful division of all opposition and the grains created by the course blades of its oppression are starting to come together inside pigeonholes that are as yet undefined by the Ministry of Propaganda.
Grains of the miners and the rail workers; grains of the suicides and the victims being cared for in the community; grains of the sports fans who have slowly been priced out of their passion in its myriad manifestations; grains of the actual grafters who’ve just had to stay on the running machine to survive; the grains of the non-conformists from all factions who will come together in order not to conform to this greater threat.
There’s a phrase from a song by Latin Quarter about Apartheid (Divided) South Africa that goes:
And your guns can fire, and your prisons fill
And you've yards of rope for hanging still
But your guns can shoot and never hit the sky
And there's no rope as long as time
Agency 1 is the Ministry of Propaganda
Agency 2 is the Ministry of Division (not to be confused with the Division Division which consists of only 2 civil servants who spend their days throwing insults at one another).
Agency 1 is the Ministry of Information.
Agency 2 is the Home Office.
These agencies are a powerful weapon that has been moulded and manipulated and pointed directly at the populace.
Don’t believe me?
Look again:
- Brexit is a new shiny badge in the trophy cabinet at the Ministry of Division.
- The Ministry of Propaganda disputes the accolade but is happy to take ownership of the pandemic message and spreads it zealously, exploiting all cultural references and fingerholds in the edifice of society. Or to put it more bluntly: The corporate media outlets (and I include all terrestrial media outlets here) are telling you what the Major Shareholders want you to believe.
- The Ministry of Division would like to remind The Ministry of Propaganda that it (Propaganda) is often spreading the message devised by itself (Division).
These tools range from ancestral prejudice and regional pride; the flags of your neighbour to boil your blood; to fingering the wounds inflicted during the empire’s murky military peak.
These tools range from psychological profiling, focus groups and, to some degree, that which they can fish from the myriad waters of The Social Media.
At the blunt end of The Home Office’s toolbox are the Police (Or the Police Force, to give it its more accurate title.)
It is no mystery why the Police Force is generally uniformed in Black & White.
The Police Force has no interest in propaganda, believing as it does, that it is an entity unto itself; a truly binary entity whose individual atoms are well aware that the undefined area between definitions of lawful and unlawful are where any situation is most easily exploited to their advantage.
And, if that fails to convince the non-complier, then The Police Force is the baton hand that reigns down blows before the erect penis of the Ministry of Division.
One way or the other these agencies are tasked with making sure that you obey.
And what, you ask, are the Major Shareholders doing while all this is happening down here on the street?
What are they doing besides devising ever more complex ways of ‘making’ money and accumulating power?
Is it beyond belief to think that the brainchild behind this headlong dash toward the abyss is nothing more than some rodent with a chip on his shoulder, one who is determined to take over the world no matter the consequence; because he is merely a winner and he wants to be the winner?
The Ministry of Division has become so efficient in its primary function that it has failed to notice that the resultant grains of its successful division of all opposition and the grains created by the course blades of its oppression are starting to come together inside pigeonholes that are as yet undefined by the Ministry of Propaganda.
Grains of the miners and the rail workers; grains of the suicides and the victims being cared for in the community; grains of the sports fans who have slowly been priced out of their passion in its myriad manifestations; grains of the actual grafters who’ve just had to stay on the running machine to survive; the grains of the non-conformists from all factions who will come together in order not to conform to this greater threat.
There’s a phrase from a song by Latin Quarter about Apartheid (Divided) South Africa that goes:
And your guns can fire, and your prisons fill
And you've yards of rope for hanging still
But your guns can shoot and never hit the sky
And there's no rope as long as time
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