Reversable rhetoric

One million jobs project aimed at the unemployed OR Fornication of simulation and populist pander

            Promises for help are merely facades for legislation geared towards corporate assistance. Socialism for large corporations is perpetrated as a belief of continual subsidies that runs parallel to incremental restoration of tribal eminence. This reality of gradual reactionary change ramifies a societal consciousness that willfully accepts citizenry rights rescinded at the hands of a silent minority. The foundation of the “coup d’état in slow motion” is a national paradigm beholden to corporate capitalism, perpetuating a wrench of power from lower order economies to be firmly placed within the hands of an elite social standing. Residence of the tier above any nominal “upper-middle class” not only compete for those positions that grant access to control platforms of business, but those who participate in such a climb do so ultimately to serve as sovereign over a niche of the national power structure.

            Our perception of a “dog-eat-dog world” may be abstracted to a person endowed with the ability of generating and engaging in the creation and flow of power. A strange yet familiar alchemy will quickly elevate such a person, as a celebrity suddenly appears in the mass media, to a figurehead representing some camp of invested interests, people looking to make money as quickly and inexpensively as possible. The fusion of consumer society with the national fortitude of political and military power finds a flat-topped pyramid; a broad base of exploited citizenry, who mostly squabble over orchestrated forms of reality, exemplifies the structure of an exclusively material Superpower. A question begging to be asked, perhaps out of stubborn habit, would ponder the potential influence powerful family dynasties would have in managing the ebb and flow of powers that guide a globalized money exchange, as well as administering and securing a preferred global finance paradigm.

            Sociopaths wind through the routine of a 9–5 wager; as a reward for persistence and dedication, the loyalist will grow to be rich. This moral wager stands to victimize the loyalist, establishing an exploitative ethic: an honest day’s work will force you to become targeted as a sap devoid of the capacity for the carnival swindle. For example: the warm bond of neighbors when the trumpets blare, “WE ARE GOING TO WAR!” None of us are prone from the poison of violence. Unfettered capitalism is a revolutionary force, a revolution of meaning, to regulate the overturn of value. Repetition of reality.  Cannibalism.  Mountain top removal, emplaced moonscape. Destroy this planet, move onto the next.  Virus, consumption, mimicry, exponential growth, treason of intellectuals. We cannot take power, we must renounce power.  

Anemic Attitude

How much is this?

Um, I think that one is $30.

Oh my God . . . I've bought something like this, SOOOOO many times in the past.

Oh, huh huh huh.

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Lately, I've been mindful of my habits. I've greeted ritual with the same rigorous adroitness the demure Agent Moulder employs in the Pacific Northwest when facing unexplained phenomena: frantic research; sleepy-eyed rumination; lack of dossier; advocate of brevity; unorthodox trust and compassion with the locals; arriving just at the last moment to catch a glimpse of the paranormal/supernatural. In the end, I lose sight, and find myself returned to the beginning.

I try to be creative as I approach my ritualized day, searching for alternatives instead of relying on convention. I find myself, just as concerns of aliens or werewolves — ghastly anomalies — often elude our progress-driven culture, without total appreciation for commitment to an alternative. I catch a glimpse, the feeling dissipates, and I am done. I recognize the ritual, and then cannibalize it for spare parts to fashion a new reality. The ritual of my daily habits is incorporated into the virtual language of an altered environment. The ritual is broken, and I unload the stress of completing that ritual through the play of new permutations sourced from an exceedingly ambiguous provenance. Hapless repetition of behavior, schemes of procrastination, falling head first into a pile of dirty laundry — I am consumed from inside only to be regurgitated out onto the world. Less an implosion of the soul than vacuumed spirit. Too much salt, sugar, fat, grease, alcohol, smoke, negligence, body odor, matted hair, anemic attitude.

Into oblivion, obliterated and obtuse, witness the apotheosis of consumption. I refuse to believe in such worship of devalued signs, though ironically, perhaps this is a sign of the times; emotional refusal in tandem with willful participation. Compulsory without force, for the tether extends from deep inside the machine of society into us all. I do not fight systematic participation, only dread the day when I no longer have the comforts of forced recreation. My muscle become inflamed with tension; I am pained by the dead things consumed hours earlier. Yet I am convinced things are normal, and I have plenty of time to wait for an epiphany. Burgess Meredith haunts an opium den, as I haunt a neglected present.

Paradox of the post-modern worker/consumer

"Here in lies the present paradox: work has totally triumphed over all other ways of existing, at the same time as workers have become superfluous. Gains in productivity, outsourcing, mechanization, automated and digital production have so progressed that they have almost reduced to zero the quantity of living labor necessary in the manufacture of any product. We are living the paradox of a society of workers without work, where entertainment, consumption and leisure only underscore their lack from which they are supposed to distract us."