It began during the late 1980's and accelerated during the next decade. The evil began to pervade one media presence after another, reporting crime and sleaze and all the worst manifestations of our sickening society. The more they published and presented, the more the morons consumed until eventually there were more and more morons than there were lovers of light and truth.
Seeking a greater spectacle; a more carmine bloodbath the homage to depravity lurched from one theme to another infecting even the most annodyne of formats until there was nothing left uncorrupted or untainted by their infection. So then they started capitalising on grief and discomfort, engendering mass outpourings of emotionalism and feigned loss, the Princess of our Hearts locking the nation into a trauma so preoccupying that we could no longer see what was being conducted in our namesake.
By the time that the Millenium came about we were already fully programmed to receive the messages and react to the domed disappointment and the fear that the world would fail to reboot and yet it did. Then came the fateful September when real death played out in front of our eyes, a crime so huge that we couldn't see the real crime taking place behind the collapsing facades of controlled destruction, the insurance frauds, the destruction of investigatory evidence of serial insider trading and the theft of billions of gold bullion. The world was completely changed and no single voice of dissent could be heard for fear of being incarcerated as a terrorist and a threat to the very fabric of their society.
So they released the dogs of War and hundreds of thousands died to preserve the oil dollars and the US opium supplies. Control the fuels and you control the populace. Fire them up with Weapons of Much Distraction so that they cannot evince themselves to understand a strategy so vile as to wipe the moral account of all credit and create an overdraft of such magnitude and defecit of humanity that no one can conceive the sheer scale of it.
Bereft of all conscience the movement continued its relentless campaign not content with arming the militias to attack its own forces of order, it exploited its OPEC brothers to paint the Towns red with a surge of infidel designed to raise the stakes in the centres of population while the safest place to be was standing astride an oil well on the great plain of hydrocarbon deposit. In the homelands the lockdown gathered apace, the electoral process was usurped and provided a premature result that suited the cause in the name of democratic process and maquerading as freedom of expression.
The Hawks devoured their prey and cashed in their chips before the markets unsustainable in their levity collaped and the man in the street had time to retrieve his lot. Not content with breaking the backbone of the regulated economy, then the next phase began with the adoption of policy for survival and the lowering of carbon emissions, once locked up in natures huge arsenal but let loose by the very agencies that capitalised them. How they brought suffering in the swealtering heat and arid deserts of the tropics, displacing billions from their homes and birthright as sea levels started to rise, fed by storms and pestilences undreamed of where once was relative paradise.
Parasitic by nature they committed their whitewashed, white washed halls of power to the cause and led the race into one last desperate play of Machiavellian proportions in one last desperate bid for total enslavement.
Too late the dissent and too feint the protest when a single human life is made worthless and yet when a child disappears in a sun kissed resort the media moguls bring all their forces to bear in an unceasing expose' of human interest that floods the front pages of our information streams and preoccupies our otherwise potent attentions. Made defunct of all fecundity we are no longer masters of our own destiny by our debt laden bins and our bin laden debts.
And then a lone voice is heard in the ruins of a once great and fabled city, "Whose pulse is the master of action...
Here today and gone
Tomorrow's child
Looking so wild and free
Are we a choice
With no voice
Can it be
Great heart, mean streak
Spare part speed freak"
I will never cease to fight the darkest forces of unreason with the very last drop of my essence and life force.
Peace and love (and may this horror story never come to pass...)
Pete
