I Disagree – a short essay

[thoughts from an angry   ~burning woman~   ]

I Disagree!

Overworked,tired and in a mood: perhaps not the best conditions to write an essay but I have to ‘say’ this: I disagree. That’s it, and that’s all of it: I disagree.

Undoubtedly someone is bound to ask, “What are you disagreeing with?” To which I have to respond: absolutely everything.

“Explain? Clarify?”

I think that everything is a conspiracy, especially though, everything that is so easy to accept. I’ve been reading some about the manufacture of consent and I’ve come to realize that all arguments are manufacturing of consent, the effort to make another change her mind about whatever, and for whatever reason.

This brings me to commercials, or “ads” as they are so cutely described. What is an “ad” but a financially motivated effort to make you buy something you don’t need, or change the brand of something you’re already using? Okay, you tell me that isn’t manufacturing consent. People consent to believe because they desperately need to believe.

I’ve been unashamedly a conspiracy theory buff for a long time. It began, I suppose, when I became aware of how certain nations use false flags to launch wars, usually wars of regime change when a certain other nation wouldn’t roll over and beg. For a so-called democracy, in particular, to launch a war you need the consent of the Muggles. Now they aren’t that hard to move in the direction of mayhem, violence and blood, it’s in Muggle DNA after all,  but they still need to feel righteous about state-sanctioned mass murder. They want to know that they are right and anyone else declared the enemy is de-facto wrong. From wrong it’s but a tiny step to being evil. Then it’s easy to demonize them and then to massacre them. If they happen to have something worth taking it isn’t stealing, it’s just spoils of war. They forced us to go to war against them by not obeying our rules and now they have to pay our debts incurred in straightening them out.

It all fits together, one false flag after another, one war after another, then more false flags if the war is flagging (!) so the theater of war (ah, I knew I’d get to the entertainment part of it) can be moved around, or expanded. Are you bombing Iran yet, America, or are you thinking that maybe they’re fun to propagandize against but might not be so much fun to go toe-to-toe against in a real war? Maybe they’re not Grenada, huh?

You’ll think, everything isn’t about war, but isn’t it? What is racism, you tell me. What is misogyny, you tell me. What is throwing people into the streets who can’t pay rent, you tell me. What is taking public money from public education and health care to jam it into weapons manufacturing and into the pockets of the obscenely rich, you tell me. Whatever you want to call it, I call it war because thousands of innocents are dying because of it.

Predatory capitalism, the number one economic system ruling and ruining the Earth at this time is all about war. It makes war on life, period. When people spend their time discussing this monstrosity without taking action against it, they are manufacturing consent in that they want “me” to believe that P/C can be used for good.

That’s when I say, bull shit. To those I say, you will never convince me that it is possible to pick up a piece of shit by the clean end.

Stop Grasshopper: where are you going from here?

[thoughts from    ~burning woman~    by Sha’Tara]

If I were a betting kind of person, I’d bet a substantial amount of my pension check, say $100, that the main question on most people’s minds these days would be something like, “where are we going from here?”  At least in the Western world, faced as it is with some quite serious political and economic changes and challenges. 

Imagine what it’s like to live in a world built almost exclusively on slave labour and stolen resources from Third World nations, or any nation that can’t defend itself against political graft, military superiority and financial corruption, and having that cornucopia gradually go empty? 

The growing number of war costs and bodies on the ground (take that metaphorically or literally) is making itself felt.  Cheap resources and cheaper labour are not delivering their quota of expectations.  Prices are rising, as is discontent, chaos, confusion and fear. Damn, but it’s really quite annoying, this constant discomfort.  It’s like the Western world is suffering from sciatica; it can’t find any comfortable position to put itself back to sleep. 

Never mind the MSM (I understand that to mean something like “Multi-Slime Media” but I could be wrong, it’s probably something much worse), I’ve been reading “alternative” media, or just a lot of blogging on various subjects such as Trumpism, war, global injustice, climate change… or sometimes switching to war, climate change, global injustice and Trumpism.  Nothing like variety, is there.  So, big picture, what am I reading?

I’m reading the confused thoughts of people enmeshed in a net of anti-human corruption called predatory capitalism.  The concept is a real-life Game played with real people who live and die at the hands of the players.  The Game itself is completely artificial, having nothing whatsoever to do with natural life as it was meant to be lived, either on this world, or on any sane world.  The tokens used are called money, and while they all serve the same purpose, they have different names in different parts of the globe.  Dollars is a popular name; rubles, yens, yuan, shekel, rupee, pound, it doesn’t matter, they are just tokens, some “worth” more than others. 

When you sign up for the Game, in very fine print at the bottom of the form, on page 198, there is a cautionary line: If you have some tokens, you may gamble and if Lady Luck favours you, you may get more, but the moment you lose your last token, your life is forfeit to the Game and you and your family must die or go into life-long slavery. 

How seriously do Earthians take this global Game?  Enough to play it 24/7, on every part of the planet.  Enough to gamble away everything they own, even their nation.  Enough to willingly enslave themselves to those who have the most tokens because they control the Game and have enough power to change to rules so the Game always benefits them.  Enough to sacrifice their children on the board and to die by the millions through a variety of preventable causes to keep the Game going.

Pathetic?  Beyond pathetic.  But if that isn’t sad enough, try to imagine billions of semi-intelligent creatures believing that if they stopped the Game they and their world would suddenly die. Billions, even those who have given up believing in invisible sky wizards called gods, believe in, and promote the Game as if all of life on earth depended on an endless exchange of tokens, either in a physical form or increasingly, over the internet. 

I taught myself the rules of the Game when I was very young because I sensed how it was designed to enslave people by forcing them to become addicted to it.  I didn’t want to play the Game because it is disgusting to me, but I needed to know it so I wouldn’t get ensnared by it; so I wouldn’t become tempted to worship in its churches called banks and gambling casinos or shopping plazas.  Furthermore, as I realized that each day of my life the Game was claiming more and more of the world and there would soon be no place left where anyone could live without holding a playing card and having a minimum number of tokens, I needed to know how to pretend to play so I wouldn’t be banished from its all-encompassing zone of control. 

I finally realized that the only place outside was through suicide but after a “half life” of playing with the thought and a couple of attempts, I gave that up.  I was offered a challenge: to live within the Game while despising it and doing everything I could to expose it as nothing but a death-dealing addiction, the number one addiction on the planet.  I could live with that. 

Once in a while I stop long enough to look at this world, and its addiction to the Game; to money.  I realize how everything, and I mean absolutely everything that has any value has been put up as an ante, a forced bet, on the Game’s table.  I see billions of players looking on in dismay, having lost everything, knowing that death is now mandatory for them.  I see the piles of bets in front of the few bloated players who only want more having no other reason to play but addicted to having more.  What do I compare this to?

I imagine a world where everyone is addicted to watching the Bugs Bunny, Road Runner Looney Tunes cartoons on TV.  It’s all they’ve ever watched, all they’ve ever seen, all they know, all they believe in.  The Game is played between Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner.  It goes on and on and on, and all those people spend their entire lives convinced that one day, one time, Wile E. Coyote will win over the Road Runner.  They spend everything betting on the coyote, despite the fact that he’s never, ever won.

That is pathetic.  That is capitalism. 

Who does the Road Runner represent?  Bill Gates (Microsoft), Amancia Ortega (Inditex or Zara), Warren Buffet (Berkshire Hathway), Jeff Bezos (Amazon), Koch brothers (Koch Industries), Carlos Slim (Grupo Carso), Mark Zuckerberg (Facebook), Larry Elllison (Oracle), Ingvar Kamprad (IKEA).  These ten richest multi-billionaires in order of value, are each worth over 40 billion Game tokens.  With his endless failed attempts at beating the Road Runner, it’s easy to figure out who Wile E. Coyote represents. 

Tell me again, intelligent people of earth, why you are absolutely convinced that you must play this really stupid “Hunger Game” and sacrifice everything of value to it?  Why you believe that the Game is worth more than the very world you depend upon for your life?  I’m not sure I quite understand your reasoning.  In fact I know I don’t.

Now listen to some pertinent lyrics sung so beautifully by Blackmore’s Night, food for thought:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbJ89efvKqM