Archive - August 2017

1
The Myth of Authority
2
The Death of Sex
3
A Comfortable Prison

The Myth of Authority

Let’s get this clear from the outset, no one can claim legal authority over another without their consent. With that in mind, it seems strange that merely by the involuntary act of birth, we are expected to accept the legitimacy of those who hold dominion over us.

Democracy is a collective decision, the will of the people coming together to build upon the noble aims of a fairer society. Yet despite the good intentions, authoritarians, plutocrats, technocrats, and those of superior rank and royal bloodline, still rule the world. The playing field isn’t level, it’s an insurmountable peak, for the game is fixed, both sides are cheats, and the true results remain hidden from the public gaze.

Any political party that promises to represent its citizens, is lying through its teeth. We’re nothing, you, I, and another six or so billion others on this planet. Any form of resistance provides little more than conundrums, intriguing problems for the experts to figure out in the years to come. Kill empathy, emotion, any true sense of identity, the concept of family, friendship beyond mere social expectation, love, hate, life itself. That’s what’s coming over the horizon, and to be brutally honest, we, the shepherd’s flock, the grovelling penny pinching masses, who daren’t peek our heads above the parapet, deserve everything that’s coming to us.

The price of freedom is far too high to give up on all this crap, the internet, smart devices, music, movies, celebrity gossip. Culinary delights from around the world, vacations to far off climes, sharing photos and handy tips, the illusion of friendship, and the instant gratification of synthetic sexuality. For many freedom is a misnomer, exchanging everything for liberty offers little comfort for the brave. The law of the jungle, the brutal conquering the weak, the loneliness and the boredom of a lifetime of subsistence, spent scraping away at the soil for a bite to eat.

There’s no point in choosing sides, everyone in power is connected, if not through bloodline, then through shared vision. The rest are fools, duped by the promise that anybody can make it to the top. Of course, the greedy are cheap, they’d rather sell their souls to sit on the top of a heap of shit, than keep shovelling. The remainder are perhaps the most gullible in all history. We, who still have hope that by some miraculous turn of luck, humanity will shine through and win in the end. It won’t, and it never has. Every example of collective responsibility has produced a figurehead, and a corrupted one at that. Namely those with enough guile and cunning, the greatest liars of all-time, who’ve cast themselves heroes and heroines of history, fighting for a better life for all.

When are we going to snap out of it? I’m sure long after I’m dead, if ever. It’s such a shame, I knew all this as a child. My mother, neighbours, teachers, all would accuse me of having a problem with authority. I do, with all my heart, I’d rather die senselessly in a world of absolute true freedom, unshackled by the self proclaimed interests of crony capitalists and corrupt dictators, than be martyred for their fashionable cause.

As far as I, or any of my generation are concerned, we’ve lived our lives long enough to know if the shit hits the fan, we’ve had our turn. Some people wish they could be young again, I’m not one of them, if anything, I pity future generations. Things are going from bad to worse, and all they’ll have to inherit are our mistakes. The worst of all being our willing subjugation to the tyrannical indiscretions of a brutal social order.

As long as those who enforce the rules of conduct, administer laws and cultural traditions, we’re destined to obey the illusionary power of authority. No matter how much the individual resists, eventually their compatriots will betray them for the chance to survive the devastation of humanity. With much of the population decimated through various means, infertility, martial law, tainted food and water, only the loyalist slaves will remain.

Yet even they’ll be punished for their collusion, destined to live as mindless drones, chemically altered and psychologically programmed to be happy with their lot. Shift workers afforded brief rest in coffin-sized cubicles, working to zero hour contracts in unfit conditions. Dedicatedly following the orders of an artificial intelligence, that much like its creators, is slowly learning to despise the human race.

The problem is that too many of us fear the alternative, a perpetual state of anarchy. Humanity lacks faith in itself, and dreads its inevitable descent into madness should the hierarchy collapse. It’s human instinct after all, or rather reptilian, the survival programming of the lower brain. The myth of authority is a ruse, a ferocious beast dressed in the fineries of wealth, cloaked under a guise of respectability. Our race persists with its primitive rage, both master and servant live by the same fundamental rites. The law of the jungle is alive and well, the strong wield power over the weak, and those who control our natural resources, will continue to hold sway over all others.

The Death of Sex

It’s becoming a very lonely world out there. Few even consider love nowadays, and as far as sex goes, whole generations have become flashers. They used to be dirty old men in the park, dressed in nothing but their socks and shoes, and a loose fitting mackintosh. Now it seems that everyone’s at it, or at least those most proud of their natural assets. Then again, those not so confident might splash out on a few enhancements, a bigger chest, a longer wang, liposuction, Botox, new hair, new teeth. You name it, there’s someone out there willing to carve you up for the right price.

Then there’s the problem of unrealistic expectations. If you’ve seen enough adult content, you’ll start to wonder if every man out there has a foot long snake in his pocket. The same goes for women, men expecting fresh faced good time girls, as thin as a rake, with humongous breasts and a tidy foo foo. All scrolling through potential dates on their phones, picking out sexual mates like they’re online shopping, and no one ever able to return the goods if they’re dissatisfied with the service.

It reminds me of a scene from a corny old sci-fi movie, one of my all-time favourites, Logan’s Run. Although, I admire it more for its nostalgia-infused camp value, than any profound dystopian message. Obviously, Logan’s Run got a lot wrong, an entire population dressed in jumpsuits, facing compulsory death at 30, all busy frolicking around in a shopping mall without a care in the world. But as far as Grindr, Tindr, or any of the other ubiquitous apps out there go, the movie predicts the phenomenon to a tee. Michael York dials up Jenny Agutter, but she’s not in the mood for fun. No worries, before long his best pal turns up with two more hotties, so they get high on a purple smoke bomb and start fooling around.

Then there are the robots, sci-fi hasn’t really dealt with the subject very well, at least not in terms of sexual relations. Instead of lying back and thinking of England, or Japan, or wherever they were manufactured, they think of nothing, because they haven’t got a brain. Much like the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz, but with less straw and wearing suspenders. I’m sure there are male robots too, but you won’t hear the media jawing on about synthetic gigolos. Why, you may ask? It’s obvious, women have been finishing themselves off with all sorts of devices for decades. But now technology is advancing, and men have graduated from rubber dolls, and found something better to massage their ego, amongst other things.

It’s all the rage in Asia, robosexuality is here to stay, that is if you can believe the hype. Look up the male virginity rates in Japan, so many men playing with dolls, so many women who can’t see the point of relationships. I guess this might come across as a little insensitive, but has anyone ever considered the connection between a lack of physical contact, and the escalating suicide rate? Just saying…

I think it might’ve been Futurama that first came up with the term robosexual, I’d fact check but what the hell. Imagine a future where millions publicly profess their love for cold, unemotional, highly attractive automatons. Sounds a bit like Hollywood to me, glossy propaganda reducing love and romance to a simple formula. Looks plus money plus sexual athleticism equals a happy ending.

I guess in the future there might even be robot-pimps, hiring out mechanical pros to turn tricks for soft-bodied saps. Who knows, when people get desperate enough, they’re just about willing to do anything to get their rocks off. You can see what’s coming, can’t you? Finally, with enough advancements in AI and robot rights, our faithful sex machines will spurn the human race and do the nasty without us. Leaving us on the sidelines, a pitiful race of voyeurs, lost in a world of auto-eroticism, wondering where the hell it all went wrong.

A Comfortable Prison

Have you ever heard of shrinkflation? It’s a neat little trick that food manufacturers, especially confectionery brands, use to manage our expectations in this permanent state of austerity. Instead of paying higher prices, we get less bang for our buck. Just to put this in context, there’s not been widespread food rationing since WW2. It’s an economy of truth, a cheap trick to keep the masses in check. The worst thing about it is that we, the consumers, prop up our corporate paymasters, who in turn sway the political agenda, ensuring that everyone plays along with the ruse. So much capitulation for a measly sugar rush, it’s rather sad really.

The thing to remember, is that with an ever growing population there should be more money in circulation, not less. Ever since the crash of 2008, governments around the world have been printing money to offset their enormous debts. Yet, for all their frantic activity, most of us find we’re earning less, and barely able to make ends meet. It’s not as if consumers can go on strike. We’d only starve ourselves to death, achieving little more than a spike in insurance premiums, and a short-lived boom in the funeral sector.

There’s only so many things a trillionaire can buy, until all that’s left for sale are people. We, the population of the Earth, have been bought and sold a thousand times over, and yet so few of us realise our material worth decreases by the day. So what’s the point of maintaining the status quo? We only have ourselves to blame, we voted for this, or we didn’t, but nevertheless we still play the game. We accept the notions of law and order, embrace the economic truth, and speak the language of our tormentors with our every utterance. We are caught in a trap of our own making, and it’s been this way for so long now, we’ve become accustomed to the impotence of democracy.

We’ve traded in our freedoms, our inalienable human rights, for a temporary stay in a third rate Elysium. No one here is free, not unless you have the money, not unless you can afford to ignore the rules and pay the fines. Even then you won’t need to, if you have true wealth and power, you’ll most likely help write the rules, new laws for every land.

Inevitably there’ll come a crisis point, a day of global unrest, a worldwide riot. A time when the walls come tumbling down, and the lunatics take over the asylum. Then every person of influence, the leaders of our pitiful race, will scuttle off to their luxury burrows, hoping to avoid drowning in the human soup of hunger and pain. When the pyramid of power is toppled, and the hierarchy is no more, there’ll be no sanctuary, no escape, only comfortable prisons for the rich, and mass graves for the poor.

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