Recently I was tasked with an enormous responsibility. That is, to accept those of my fellow citizens who are sick, mental cave-dwellers for who and what they are. To not be annoyed and spiritually troubled by their meager, haplessly downloaded, boil-covered personalities. Or by their politics which are more like antics, and performative, based on an idiot's incomprehension of propaganda directives doubling as "news" and "science," and on a childish but no less formally state-engineered lust for smashing the damn hell out of the people on the other side, with its inferior politics and morality, then dancing and posting on their destroyed, canceled, ugly bodies and wombs.
This newfound forbearance and acceptance of mine didn’t take a word or command from any God or their Vicar for me to adopt. I simply realized it was time and I challenged myself. Truly, I had become so drenched by the insanity of the modern collapse of so-called civilization, especially the tidal wave of this late, Great Reset/Plague Roll-out/Global Krakenist's War on the Credulous and Co-Morbid, and by the fierce, dispiriting cultural and filial warfare it spawned---tensions that so suspiciously resemble the divide and conquer methods of the largely imaginary but obviously goaded racial and gender-sexual tensions of my contemporary America---that i like to threw my hands up and went dripping back to the drawing and ouija boards, altogether. A kind of spiritual great reset.
Way down in my lofty but anxious, medicated, probably now pensionless soul, I said, "Anita, there is little to be done about this dreadful situation, as far as you're concerned. Lookahere at this wasteland of infirm, compromised hominids armed 24-7-365 with fantastic communications technology and not a clue how to use any of it properly. When what the world needs most is unvarnished truth, and objective, digitally enabled and enhanced forms of research, and some intersectional dialogue as well as communicating. The obscene but somehow normalized ironies all by themselves threaten to end humanity and your own precious peace of mind. Very young children are forming BDSM clubs and coming up with their very own sexual sub-groups and nomenclature. Members of fraternities and sororities now look almost like everyone else, except for the arrogant bloodlust in their eyes which is difficult to fake without a legacy of some kind. Just get on with being a hermit and a predictable vanilla sex-addict, and trying desperately to reconcile these two things."
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| (Junior is the defiant one in the diaper) |
All of their stupid and rubbishy degenerate nonsense, their pandering, their flimsy ideological grand-standing was now to be overlooked, and just plundered for its wisdom. Plundered sensibly for its wisdom. Even the tendency of white people to appropriate so much of what they perceive as black culture, i'll now try to regard as somehow dignified and even charitable: a sign of deep, authentic respect.
We must accept these rotting, dismal conditions of the putrefying material world, like good and dreamless followers of The Buddha. We should accept the seeping mess that people have made of their own individual destinies, as symbols of The Great Work, in minutiae. What did you expect, Anita? These dim motherfuckers believed in The Ogre, Bin Laden, and in the Moonshot Optics Hoodwinking of 1969, and Kobe Bryant's sincerity, as well as the kabalistic numero-logy of wondrously coincidental dire emergencies, and how this last logic does not under any circumstances relate to collapsible skyscrapers or 15 NSA anti-terrorism drills on the Day of The Tragic Events, after all. Just go on now and heave those ideas into the maw of Google if you don't believe it and are having fantasies of canceling me or getting me fired, as if the information has not already been scrubbed or completely debunked by Bill Nye, and Snopes, and Vanity Fair, and The Atlantic Monthly, and your wise old mom, and the other club- and kennel-members.
After all, we can't reasonably expect blood from stones, unless they are African diamonds, or coltan, etc. And it never rains pennies from heaven, and there are very few super-heroes who go unhomicided for their deeds. Even Charlie "Yardbird" Parker was probably murdered by mafia-type assets of the occult dynasties of the Euro-mesopotamian regions, after all, and Hendrix, besides, and Sam Cooke, and so many, many others, including some very talented and culturally significant, resonant wypipo.
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| Junior is the one with the hair, sort of chemically serene countenance, graphics t-shirt, framed and boyish martial fantasy posters, infantile plush decorations, and Oedipal desire to fuck his own mother, possibly. And now that we've reached the end of this exercise in harmless satire, i shall say sincerely that i believe the January Sixth Insarreckshun has all the hallmarks of a Psy-op and is quite canned and stinky, from top to bottom, (including this shabby moral drama of the Reffits, perhaps, with its totally indelicate notes of subduing family loyalties to those of The State) and i will have you know that i researched the whole thoroughly videotaped Optics-Phantasmagoria of that day extensively, from my catbird seat on my beloved internet. Hours upon hours upon hours of scanning, reading, ratiocination, and video evidence-watching. Even though it was so bloody obvious what that day was about, obvious on the day itself, in fullest real-time. Yes i researched it comprehensively on the internet, which is a fast-dwindling source of information, insofar as the ease of accessing good data, because we are near the end of many of our best, good things, and maybe of objective reason and forbearance. |
Please consider showing your charitable and appreciative nature today, times are hard, you know:
my cashapp handle:
$natteaze
and here too is my Venmo:
@natteaze
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