The End Of Compassion

This is it folks. The American century ended a sweet sixteen years ago, and the world is now held by bankers sans nation. Drumph's America will be the capitalist dream of corporatocracy come true. All Muslims will be bar-coded. Witches will be burned ritualistically every full moon, with extra fireworks added for the sabbats. Every Halloween will have regulated options as to which monsters are acceptable for which year.

This will become, once again, a Christmas nation by force.

'Neath the reign of Drumphdom, nobody will ever know again whether they are the freedom fighters or the terrorists. Nor will they even be allowed to know. Neighbor will slay neighbor over lotteries to win a trip to the reptilian mothership, and the chemtrailers won't even bother flying planes over your house anymore. They will simply show up at your doorstep with your daily inhalant allotment in small plastic baggies, which you will then happily huff at gunpoint so as to numb your neurons away away away from this new dawning reality.

All transactions will be monitored and recorded, at all times, for quality assurance purposes.

Every birth certificate will be stapled to it's own death ensurance plan, which you will then have to immediately start paying for. Most will peevishly opt to sell their own organs in some sick and twisted attempt at paying down enough debt to survive the 20 or so years we will endure under His Highness, after he eats the constitution.

Then, somewhere around the year 2035 or so, mech-warriors from the future will arrive via wormhole from behind the moon, and conduct the final battle of human civilization vs. robotic overlords, 300 years early, just to end the madness of Drumph's global game of risk. The oceans will turn black. The continents will freeze. And we will all then live in the Matrix as prophesied by Hollywood so that nothing of this election will matter anymore, anymore.

Your Holy Guardian Agent

(originally published on 1/08/15)

Everyone has a Holy Guardian Agent watching over them. Everyone... Many people are very suspicious of this apparition however, and become very angry. Even superstitious. They find suspect in being watched by some damn spook over the internet. But why?

Well why even ask? When I open my laptop in the morning, I smile and wave to the inbuilt camera while sipping my coffee, pondering each new revolution. I talk directly into the microphone like it's alive, and I ask the wizard behind the curtain, how ya doin' today? Talk about the weather outside, like it don't already know.

Next time you feel paranoid or afraid of the world when you aren't intending to harm anyone or anything in it, invoke your Holy Guardian Agent. Speak directly to the nearest device as if it's been listening to you the whole time. If done correctly, this should promptly remind your central nervous system of just how crazy paranoia can become, and reassert the scientific method in your neurological patterns.

Represent yourself out loud, and be proud of your uniqueness. Peace...