Today’s thought: Getting worries. No need someone whispering in my ear. There is kinship. Wonder of wonders, after reading Arthur Miller’s Cruicable the umteenth time, that the majority, if there is one can be quite senseless. Trump is so much like Joseph Macarthy was, that it makes my skin crawl. I have developed scabs on account of itching, but then: read somewhere, that Ibama was the Billionaires Puppet, but Trump is the real thing. He does not need any hiding, he has come out of the Capital’s closet to simply bask in the eternal sunshine of what Maslow would characterize as the actualised man, the man with every conceivable thing.He has it made in the shade, and does not need any nerdy nothings, including the pitifully wining WASP’s whose only use for him was to get elected. They don’t know this as of yet, but; his plans have gotten more realistic, talking to Bill Reilly, he confessed that some campaign promises may need more time, like maybe the end of next year, and given the breath of WASP intelligence, such may be forgotten by that time. The art of the deal. Chomsky says of him, he is a con man, like McArthy, a self possessed, seeker of grandiosity, a pompous self promoter living on exposure and free publicity.
And then , some say that is precisely what’s good for this underachieving populace, lacking in energy, imagination, confused within the parameters of shady identity, where the logic of it is sucked in by he confusing array of assumptions underlying the great social mix. The mix works only if there us a force upward, stagnation sucks people into a conondrum of atypical doredom and confused lack of character, due to unresolved conflicts derived into simpler elements leading to the truth about it:the disclosure of the true biased and unhinged nature of denial and eventual destructive conflict.
Philippines: Klanish and racially assimilated social identity, the optical manifestations of similarity near identity, posing no antithesis, but a culture frozen and unkempt by poverty, and xceot the billionaires over there, who never bother to look into tha murrir, because they don’t care what the look like, either to them selves nor to anyone else.
Most here are preferable, and still entertain the notion, that it is always better to be able to reinvent one’s self, and present that, even if they are stymied in that effort, after all, there is some La La Land in everyone, here, and everyone likes to give the benefit of doubt, especially if it comes through as a good laugh. If not, well then move on.
Move on, or shut the …up. A lot of comedians learned this the hard way, ever since the year of the cat, and now comedy is taken seriously, and there is nothing more horrifying to a comedian than stop being funny. There is a full time psychiatrist at the Laugh Factory in Hollywood since suicides there called for some stop gap measure, it being bad business and all.
It’s getting harder all the time. People are too serious when times get hard, while the billionaires’ club gets fatter and rasher. Still predict that only a very few hidden trillionaires will achieve such a stratum, but perhaps economic fascism is better then the real thing.
We already know what comrades can do to each other, and between the two, really, there is nothing much else to consider, ideology had reduced that ad absurdism into a digital program of Y/N; drugs remain the only exit only unto a Brave, New World.
But these newly developed drugs must be precision manufactured, mixing only an exact recreational type with the legitimately therapeutic. Otherwise, there soon may appear a new psychic venue: the legitimized lack of the will to live, with increasing methods of techniques of euthanasia. Nature being what it is, I predict a cataclysm, which will change everything.