Technology is sold to us under the guise of improving our lives. Each new generation of electronic gadgets touts faster service, fancier graphics, sleeker and more compact designs, and a grander chance of getting you laid when showing off whatever piece-of-shit-de-jour you just spent your hard-earned slave-dollars acquiring.
But guess what, chief?
It’s all a fucking lie.
Smartphones, internet, Wi-Fi, laptops, tablets, and all things related, exist for one reason:
To control your feeble fucking brain.
Instant “information” at our fingertips has never been less informational. “Truth” has never been so full of lies. To believe you can tap a few keywords into a google search, and confidently “learn” facts about the things that keep you healthy, safe, and secure, is complete fucking folly.
From the first advertisements spoken on vacuum-tube radios, to the headlines-of-the-day automatically pinging your iPhone, the soulless motherfuckers controlling our tech have always had only one thing in mind:
That’s right, controlling your feeble fucking brain.
Consider how absurd it is to sit down and watch an infomercial — knowing the host, audience, and airtime have all been paid for by the asswads hawking their worthless, “made-in-china-by-slaves” shit — yet find yourself pulling out your credit card at the end of the session, to buy a 2-for-1 deal that’ll expire in less than 10 minutes if you “DON’T ACT NOW!”
But, in fairness, who can pass up a free Sham-Wow?
The infomercial format is, of course, the extended version of the 30-second snippets laced strategically throughout your favourite fucking piece-of-shit weekly program on the Telescreen (the show you lovingly define as “my program”), and they exist for the exact same reason — because some ass-diddling CEO authorized paying top-dollar to showcase toxic, humanity-destroying garbage, in hopes of procuring a golden parachute to float safely into Hell without snapping an ankle.
Free speech no longer exists. It’s owned by the highest bidder.
Have you ever seen a SuperBowl ad featuring, say, an indigenous group — people desperately trying to bring to light their enslavement at the hands of European oppressors who systematically took over their land, raped and murdered their families in the name of God, and forced their red-skinned asses into shitty little concentration camps?
Cuz the injuns can’t afford a million-dollar time-slot between grown men brutalizing one another as they play with a ball. And even if the true natives of this land amassed their funds through some gay fucking Go-Fund-Me campaign, I’m willing to bet a scrote-sucking media mogul would kindly thank them for their interest, but declare their message too controversial for public consumption, opting to run a minute-long abomination featuring CGI dancing cans of Bud Light swarming the erect nipples of a bikini-clad, 18-year-old blonde dancing shamelessly on a Floridian beach.
TV ain’t about sharing truth. TV don’t giveth a fuck about knowledge, wisdom, nor enlightenment, and it will never be a forum for the oppressed, mistreated, or abused. The telescreen, and all its variants, exist for one specific reason:
Yeah, you remember, to control your feeble fucking brain… to make you feel like it’s the most natural thing in the world to high-five your buddy at the bar while shouting out:
“Did you see the titties on that bitch! Fuck yeah! Let’s get another pitcher of Bud, the Packers are soooo gonna win this game…”
The media is owned by psycho-fuck monsters, who only care about how many numbers exist in their bank accounts, how many 8-year-old boys they can fuck, and the quality of their cocaine.
The worst, and scariest thing about the genocidal, dickwad sociopaths running this planet is that they’re fucking patient — calm, cool, and collected. Whatever hints they’ve leaked about future agendas to “conspiratorial” nut-jobs like myself, are only more systems of control, subtly directing fringe-thinkers into boxes intentionally built for their radical minds.
Hmm, perhaps this is the appropriate spot to link back to the Divide and Conquer trilogy…
While the motherfuckers running this show don’t think twice to wait out 10, 20, a hundred, or a thousand years to further their agenda, they’ve cleverly instilled within us the exact opposite of their tactic — as sheeple, if we don’t have immediate gratification, reward, or access to whatever we want when we want it, we’re unhappy, unfulfilled, stressed, anxious, and miserable.
Although this goofball author has been completely suckered by fictitious and insidious manipulations many times over, he’s learned much. Yes, he’s still a junkie, doing his best to play out his shitty little ego-game on Planet Earth, but the nuggets of truth he’s uncovered over the years can’t be unlearned and can’t be ignored by burying his head in the sand, like most of humanity loves to do.
So let’s get to the crux of this post…
I can’t speak experientially about the Black Plague. I can’t speak experientially about Spanish Flu. I can’t speak experientially about Polio, Smallpox, Measles, or any other micro-organisms that we’ve been told have maliciously wiped out droves of humans doing their best to tend farms, bake bread, and raise their kiddies.
But I can speak experientially about H1N1. I can speak experientially about Ebola. I can speak experientially about SARS, ZIKA, AIDS, Swine Flu, and fucking CAPS. Not because I contracted any of these so-called “diseases,” but because I was heavily entrenched in all the up-to-date, cutting edge, “information” that the media pumped out each time a new, invisible death-sentence reared its ugly head.
You wanna know what I know about viruses, germs, and plagues?
They’re fucking bullshit.
Each iteration of the latest “killer virus” I’ve witnessed over the last 30 years has been utter fucking nonsense, much like the ever-morphing Influeza bug — another demon that requires yearly vaccinations to keep you safe from mutating strains that the best medical experts on this planet predict with the accuracy of an Alzheimer’s patient smoking crack.
Each campaign is nothing more than media-fear-mongering-bullshit, meant to keep the denizens of this world forever unbalanced, stressed, and supportive of authority figures who wouldn’t think twice about pissing on freshly murdered proles dumped into a shallow, Arizonian sandpit.
Each campaign has been orchestrated patiently and intentionally, to slowly condition our brains to the scenario we now have before us:
Put a mask on, or people will die.
Don’t travel, or people will die.
Don’t socialize, or people will die.
Stay six feet apart, or people will die.
Sequester yourself from family, friends, and loved ones, in never-ending 14-day stretches, cuz if you don’t, there’s a good chance they’ll die.
Wear a mask, gloves, and condom when you fuck, or people will die.
And if you’re a corrupt, puerile, power-mad cop, insecure about the size of your penis, kill as many people as you want, just don’t fuck with the dark-skinned. Their lives matter most.
Technology has paved the way for the insanity we’re unquestioningly accepting as the “new normal.” And I don’t foresee anything getting better until we collectively wake the fuck up, and stop kowtowing to the absurdity of what our “news” describes as reality.
The media’s message is always a variation of the same shit:
Let us think for you! It’s easier than doing it for yourself, or attempting to engage in futile critical thinking. The information we provide will keep you safe! Follow our rules, and you’ll never again have to fear crazy Arabs, armed with laughable box-cutters, expertly flying into steel-structures that collapse like playing-card pyramids constructed by a five-year-old. Acquiescence is what true freedom is all about!
People die all the time. But it ain’t from fake fucking plagues, epidemics, or a sequence of RNA discovered by plugging a bunch of genetic shit into a supercomputer. They die from toxic shit dumped into their water supply. They die from chemical-laden shit sold to them at the supermarket disguised as “food.” They die from industry-poisoned air, medically-poisoned drugs, and emotionally-poisoned information.
And sometimes they just die ’cause they’re fucking old — has nothing to do with a “novel” strain of frilly-haired cells that exist within their bodies when a doctor declares their time of death.
So here’s your wakeup call.
There’s no Flu. There’s no Ebola. No AIDS, no SARS, no fucking COVID. They’re all red herrings to keep you in the dark about the real reasons people get ill.
And what are those reasons?
Living in environments and states of mind that go against every natural instinct instilled within our animal-bodies — instincts screaming out from our guts:
“Hey, this ain’t fucking right! Why the fuck am I doing this? Why am I living like this? Why am I accepting this bullshit? Why the fuck am I worried about following whatever the herd does, instead of living the life I imagine?”
Evolve on whatever timetable suits you, and I’ll do my best to support your madness, but I’ve drawn my personal line in the sand.
A line that says NO FUCKING MORE!
I will never put on a mask.
I will not conform. I will not obey. I will not sacrifice morals, ethics, common sense, or critical thinking because of an artist-rendered image of a sphere covered in red fluffy tassels, plastered on the telescreen, that justifies the social decimation of the very nature that makes us human.
If businesses choose to refuse my patronage because of it, then fuck them. I won’t support assholes hellbent on blindly following the orders of morons and psychopaths.
Oppressors aren’t overthrown by acts of violence. They’re not swayed by protests or demonstrations. They’re beaten by non-compliance. They’re rendered impotent when the masses stop giving in to their lies and deceits, and stand together, united by love, empathy, and respect for one another.
You want to inspire your fellow man?
Lead by example.
Take off your fucking mask, and go give someone a big hug. And maybe the people standing 6 feet away from you will feel a little less ashamed to do the exact same thing somewhere down the road. If enough of us do it, we’ll realize that the pitiful groups of bullies carrying guns will never be able to stand against us, contain us, or force us into submission.
We’ll only be free when we start acting like it.
We all want to be loved, right?
How horrible would it be to one day find out your beloved personality quirks irritated the hell out of 98% of the people around you?
Pretty crushing, I’m sure.
No need to fret. The following test has been scientifically formulated to put you on the right path of social normality — simultaneously determining the 2 major factors that currently affect your life the most:
A. Am I Respectful, CoronaSmart Human?
B. Am I a Fucking Douchebag?
Go grab a pen and paper.
Read the following questions, and add 2 strokes each time you answer Yes/Correct. If you respond with Nay/Erroneous, only stroke once.
If you stroke more than 108 times during this quiz, you likely have a masturbation problem.
1. Do I wear a top-of-the-line surgical mask and disposable gloves when I drive in my car, all by my lonesome, to pick up a half-priced treadmill waiting for me at the Canadian Tire curbside pickup, committed to shed the 30 pounds I’ve gained during lockdown while watching Netflix and boredom-eating?
2. Do I feel guilty walking 2 feet down a supermarket aisle to grab a jar of Mushroom Ragu, knowing I’m in clear violation of a decaying one-way sticker on the floor?
3. When someone sneezes, is my go-to comment: “Ooh, COVID, hahaha!”
4. Do I elbow-bump people instead of shaking hands?
5. Do I apply hand-sanitizer after masturbating in the shower?
6. Do I routinely purchase meat products that contain mechanically-separated pork, chicken, or turkey?
7. Do I step off the sidewalk curb to avoid being within 6 feet of some diseased douchebag motherfucker gleefully walking their yappy, piece-of-shit micro-dog?
8. Have I ever referred to Game of Thrones as GOT?
9. Have I ever refused a family member to visit my domicile because a guinea pig might count as the 5th in my household?
10. Have I ever said to anyone: “Hey dude, wanna binge-watch season two of Felicity?”
11. Have I ever gone down a playground slide in the dark, possibly while drunk, and suffered near decapitation because some COVID-fearing-fuckface wrapped a piece of orange fencing around the middle of the apparatus to deter public usage?
12. Have I ever been hit with a bag of bread because I encroached within 6 feet of a ninety-year-old fossil at Giant Tiger who was bulk-buying toilet paper, pasta, and slices of Wonder?
13. Do I realize “no-contact pick-up” doesn’t mean jack-shit if a 48-year-old cook in the kitchen rubs his balls religiously before slapping each burger on the grill?
14. Do I wear a cloth mask all day at work because I fear germs, then go home and suck my husband’s cock?
15. Am I secretly aroused by the smell of hand-sanitizer?
16. Have I wiped my bum in the last 3 months with toilet paper I bought because it was “on sale?”
16. Have I refused to go back to work because I fear “unsafe” conditions, knowing I make waaaay better money on CERB kickbacks?
17. Have I been part of a recent demonstration to show the world Black Lives Matter, while ignoring my previous mantra of, “Staying Home Saves Lives?”
18. Do I feel homophobic when my girlfriend sticks a finger up my ass?
19. Do I have a sign on my front lawn saying “I support front-line workers,” ignorant of the fact nurses are being laid off in droves because hospitals are empty?
20. Did I secretly hang a noose in Bubba Wallace’s garage?
Okay, nice work. Your test is now complete.
Determining Your Score
Spend a moment to tally your strokes, then click here to uncover your status:SCIENTIFIC ANALYSIS
Let’s attempt something ridiculous here: summing up the human ego in a 1500-word essay.
Not possible, you say?
Perhaps, but I rarely shy away from a personal challenge. I even decided to waste 32.5 words writing this short intro, because my ego doesn’t “believe” in failure.
Hm. Our perfect place to start…
What is belief?
An amazing thing. It’s a word bandied about as carelessly as “love.”
I love my wife, I love beer. I love my kids, I love my car.
I believe in God, I believe in science. I believe in aliens, I believe we’re alone in the Universe. I believe in monogamy before marriage, I believe hand-jobs in high school make you popular.
I believe, I believe, I believe…
Jesus, I fucking hate that word. When someone starts a sentence with “I believe,” you can pretty much guarantee open-mindedness won’t be part of the forthcoming conversation.
Why is that?
Because beliefs are egoic definitions. If you rag on someone’s belief, you attack the very nature of who they think they are. And, no surprise, that pisses ‘em off.
True debates between humans don’t really happen anymore. Not in a typical Western setting, anyway. You ever shut your mouth, sit back, and listen to two people talk? It’s fucking punishing. All they do is take turns babbling about themselves, waiting for the other to trail off so they can begin again, not listening to a fucking word the other is saying unless it relates to a story about themselves, which they grab hold of and twist into their own relevant tale.
If you haven’t noticed by now, people are really, really into themselves. Listening is a dead art. The name of the game is me, me, me. And in order to define me, me, me — the ego — it’s necessary to continuously expound the components that comprise me, me, me — beliefs.
Without making this too much of a semantics game, let’s point out the inherent problem with the word belief — at its simplest level, it means “I don’t really know for sure, but the model serves my current understanding of reality.”
That would be fine and dandy if people recognized this. But they don’t. Despite learning new information that makes a belief obsolete, humans will choose to desperately cling to their “models” as long as possible, only kicking it to the curb when a direct experience gives them no choice but to admit their understanding was erroneous.
Why is this so?
Because beliefs are integral to their ego-personality. To redefine a belief means redefining self, which most people are terrified to do. It’s an admission of fallibility. It’s an admission of being stupid. It’s an admission: “All the shit I’ve been spouting the last 20 years is fucking wrong, so what does that say about my worth on this planet?”
The ego doesn’t like that.
Direct experience trumps a belief.
Have you ever heard a human utter any of the following phrases?
I believe in gravity.
I believe in the sun.
I believe in rain.
I believe jamming a hot poker up my ass might cause irritation.
Of course not.
Because we’ve all experienced those things first hand. Well, maybe not the hot poker thing, that was just stupid comedy. But how many of us have met God face to face? How many of us have walked on the moon or been to space? How many people lived 65 million years ago to know a comet wiped out the dinosaurs? How many of us have carbon-dated soil to corroborate any of the asinine theories our loving scientists dictate to us as fact?
Pretty much fucking none I know, myself included.
But that doesn’t stop people from saying, “I believe in God. I believe in global warming. I believe a statistically irrelevant virus is killing humans all over the planet, so I’ll put on a surgical mask, rubber gloves, and stand six feet away from my loved ones for the rest of my days, while following ludicrous one-way stickers until the media tells me I no longer have to.”
Not having direct experience to prove or disprove information proffered is of no consequence in these situations, because the ideas are integral to defining one’s ego.
Unless you’ve experienced a thing first-hand, your “belief” is nothing more than theory. Ego-defining theory.
Why is that so difficult to understand?
Because of fucking science.
Science is supposed to be our unbiased tool to help us understand the reality we live in. It’s supposed to be dispassionate in observation, encompassing all things existential. The scientific method is simple and logical: create an hypothesis, run an experiment, examine the results. Do the results jive with the hypothesis? If yes, run more experiments to validate. If no, develop a new hypothesis, and always stay vigilant that your next observation may make your theory obsolete. Simple.
But if you haven’t been paying attention for the last 300 years, science ain’t about impartiality. Science doesn’t like discarding theories when a shitload of money is at stake. Science has become our new global religion.
The junk theories that are bandied about as “fact” are truly insulting to our species. Well, insulting to people who can still manage a critical thought once in a while. There are enough people out there who question shit in the comfort of their home, saying, “Hmm, something about this doesn’t quite add up,” but will never introduce the dialogue in public, for the basic fear of “holocaust denier syndrome.” That’s a media-driven condition that boils down to: “If you don’t accept the official narrative, you may be a radical, extremist, conspiracy-nutjob, or terrorist. We may even put you in jail, or delete your precious Facebook account.”
Most people won’t question a Fox News story declaring “stress” to be a leading cause of physical ailments. Why? Because the public can relate to “scientifically proven” findings through their own direct experience — overthinking mundane shit you feel the need to impossibly control tends to leave you tired, withered, and ill.
If they can make that simple connection, then why isn’t the corollary feasible? If science admits negative thoughts make you sick, why don’t they acknowledge positive ones can heal?
Scientists will concede the “placebo effect” is worthy of consideration, but will quickly run away from their tenured roundtables before expounding the implications of their findings.
If 30-75 percent of a control group is healed taking sugar pills as readily as the ones taking toxic drugs, shouldn’t that spark an incentive to throw a billion dollars toward a government-funded think-tank to understand why the effect is consistent?
You won’t see too many Fox News stories about healing cancer through laughter. Why? Because it’s absurd. Everyone knows that cancer can only be treated effectively by running repeated doses of poison through the body, in hopes the tumours die before a human’s will to live. It seems insane to write those words, but that’s the protocol of “advanced” medical treatment. We laugh at leech therapy, but let our loved ones go bald while being intravenously fed with toxic shit that would kill a puppy in one session.
What was that line from the Hippocratic Oath? Oh yeah:
I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect…
….unless I’ve been trained by the most advanced Western medical school on the planet to write prescriptions for toxins in lieu of making the effort to uncover what’s causing their illness. The 3-hour nutritional course I was forced to endure during my 10-year training to become a doctor has made me an expert in everything the body needs to be healthy.
If you ever consider opening a healing clinic, claiming cancer could be remedied through detoxification protocols or dietary change, I can probably guarantee a team of soldiers in flak-jackets will someday pound on your door with a warrant to shut down your quackery business, no matter how many testimonials you’ve amassed from people who are now cancer-free. If you want to operate a healing centre, it might be time to brush up on your Spanish.
I’m outta words, so let’s end this chapter.
What is belief?
What is ego?
A made-up story.
What is “reality?”
Belief and Ego.
You can spend the rest our your days on this planet conforming to rules and regulations that you’ve been taught, or you can imagine new ways to explore the Universe.
Fuck the enlightened new-age asshole who tells you about becoming one with everything. Fuck the guru who charges 2 grand to attend their seminar. Fuck the self-help assholes who have all the answers. Fuck me as well.
You wanna evolve the creature you call self?
Just who the fuck do you think you are?
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JC, you out there? I’ve got some issues I need resolving. A fucking shitload of ’em.
I’m always with you, my child.
Sweet. But you don’t have to necessarily follow me into the toilet every time.
I’m not sure where to begin. This planet has lost its fucking mind. There’ve always been control issues in place, but now they’ve gotten completely out of hand. Common sense and rational thoughts are crushed by the daily fear campaigns continuously spouted by the TV machine. Feels like I’m surrounded by drones — automatons content to unquestioningly obey whatever new rulesets or guidelines constantly being dictated to them, no matter how illogical or asinine. What the fuck do I do?
Judge not, lest ye be judged thyself.
Hmm. Okay, that’s fair enough. But just for the record, no one says “ye” or “thyself” anymore in 2020.
Of course not, that’s why it sounds so kick-ass when I do it. Although I shared that insight more than 2000 years ago, the sentiment is just as apt today. And I thank you kindly for judging my choice of words.
Oh fuck, right. I’m still doing it. Sorry. Let me better explain why I’m bitching and whining today. It’s not about who’s right, who’s wrong, what’s real, or what’s fake, it has to do with the lack of open dialogue. It seems everyone is locked into a rigid belief system, completely unwilling to entertain thoughts that haven’t been dictated to them by “authority” figures — assholes with well-documented track records of lies, deceit, and self-serving manipulation.
Who’s everyone? What makes your belief system any different?
Okay, maybe “everyone” was unfair hyperbole. Yes, it’s true I’ve spent many years professing I had all the answers to whatever I was passionate about back in the day — diet, lifestyle, philosophies, and a shitload more. But I’ve seen through my rigidity. I’m ready to amend or outright dismiss whatever theories I currently hold dear about this reality whenever new insight is gleaned. There’s nothing left I can say I “believe” anymore. Direct experience trumps all.
And how is that so vastly different from those around you? Are you a more wonderful creature because you’re enlightened?
I never said I was enlightened, I simply said I wasn’t as rigid anymore.
So not enlightened, but more advanced, more evolved? Flaccid?
Stop it. I’m not trying to sound superior. Just saying I wish society could be a little more open-minded to discuss new ideas or possibilities.
Like you were you 15 years ago?
Fuck. Alright. Make your point already.
No need. Seems you already have. Care to summarize?
Hm. Yeah, okay. Thanks for ruining my angry rant by the way.
No problemo. Continue…
I guess everyone learns and grows at their own pace. It’s not a reason to judge. If someone’s not ready to entertain a message being shared, no amount of logic, reasoning, or (haha) “scientific evidence” will convince them otherwise. Arguments and debates are pointless without an open-minded forum.
The realization I once walked in the shoes of a person on the receiving end of my “superior” criticism becomes the foundation for new perspectives of interaction — Empathy. Understanding. Patience. Unconditional love. Shit like that. How am I doing?
Honestly, you sound a bit patronizing and preachy, but don’t sweat it. I’m in no position to judge. I spent my better years wandering the desert in shitty homemade sandals, trying my damnedest to share a message I thought to be worthy — and look where that got me! I don’t know how many people you’ve brought back from the dead, but let me tell you, at the end of the day, it still doesn’t give you street cred with any group afraid to move out of their comfort zone. So stop worrying about waking sleep-walkers, and focus on advancing new ideas with however many free-thinking disciples you find around you. Worst case scenario, someone nails you to a tree.
Haha, that’s encouraging! Any final thoughts on dealing with this screwball prison planet?
Indeed. Did it slip your mind that my story ended in a kangaroo court trial and brutal murder? No matter. Let me leave you with these words. Life will continually throw you curveballs you perceive to be “injustices.” This I promise. You can handle them in one of two ways: bitch and whine till the end of time, or explore endless creative solutions to advance your growth. You’ve always held the key to the lock on your chains.
Okay, nicely said JC. Although I’ve misplaced my key, I’m gonna start looking for it right now. Well, maybe after a beer.
And you wonder why you’re fucked…