I have been inactive on this site, but not in real life. Despite my inactivity, site stats continue to be through the roof. The internet is just a vast wasteland of bots scanning bots and creating statistics for other bots. Somewhere in there, one or two of us might actually connect, all the while they’re scooping data from our interactions to beam neurologically triggering ads straight to us wherever possible. It’s fucked.
All these systems are working very well, because they’re designed to break us. What’s happening with The Secret Police conducting masked kidnappings of working people from their jobs is no different. It’s those poisoned by the algorithm moving into action. At this point, the digital propaganda is like Lyme disease… it’s jumped the fence and moving unchecked. It’s hard to know if the tyrants in charge are controlling it or just suffering from it (or both). Either way, consent is being manufactured and the fog machines are rolling on high, and Chief Bromden was always right.
I suggest to you to create. But fuck shit up with what you create. Fuck monetizing your creations. Break shit with your creations. Stab devils in the eyeballs with your creations. It feels good actually. The moral high-grounders are beating the “non-violence is the only way” drum right now, but those people are boring. They have shitty taste in music, and put raisins in potato salad. Fuck them. They are the cousins to the devils (on the devils’ father’s side, too).
I hope you are alive. And if you are alive, even more than that, I hope you feel alive. And if you don’t, go fuck something up that is making you feel less than alive, and see if that relieves some of the pressure. Burn bridges where you can see the other side is full of shit. Be difficult to those who demand their lives be easy at everybody else’s expense. And keep it underground. Don’t get lost in aspirations or ambitions or a desire to monetize your creations. There’s a lot of tricks in this goddamn carnival, so don’t get conned too easily. Be fuckin’ difficult.
All these systems are working very well, because they’re designed to break us. What’s happening with The Secret Police conducting masked kidnappings of working people from their jobs is no different. It’s those poisoned by the algorithm moving into action. At this point, the digital propaganda is like Lyme disease… it’s jumped the fence and moving unchecked. It’s hard to know if the tyrants in charge are controlling it or just suffering from it (or both). Either way, consent is being manufactured and the fog machines are rolling on high, and Chief Bromden was always right.
I suggest to you to create. But fuck shit up with what you create. Fuck monetizing your creations. Break shit with your creations. Stab devils in the eyeballs with your creations. It feels good actually. The moral high-grounders are beating the “non-violence is the only way” drum right now, but those people are boring. They have shitty taste in music, and put raisins in potato salad. Fuck them. They are the cousins to the devils (on the devils’ father’s side, too).
I hope you are alive. And if you are alive, even more than that, I hope you feel alive. And if you don’t, go fuck something up that is making you feel less than alive, and see if that relieves some of the pressure. Burn bridges where you can see the other side is full of shit. Be difficult to those who demand their lives be easy at everybody else’s expense. And keep it underground. Don’t get lost in aspirations or ambitions or a desire to monetize your creations. There’s a lot of tricks in this goddamn carnival, so don’t get conned too easily. Be fuckin’ difficult.
2 comments:
I check this site once a day for a new song of the day
I told someone recently on the digital platform I am a seed. I got no desire to be money making or even appreciated for my seediness. I just want to be a seed. I’m happy being a seed. Feel alive fighting the weight of this earth. And yeah, it’s weighty. But maybe a tendril will break through.
Jeez, I just reminded myself of the doors break on through to the other side.
Humanity is a grown garden hoping for a goat at all times. I’m a seed. Goats got easier prey. Don’t feed me to the chickens.
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