-Don’t you think that I’m bound to react now?
My fingers definately turning to black now
Maybe I’ll put my live on ice
And teach myself, maybe that’ll be nice

the white stripes-black math

Depending on who you are, and where you live, and what you do, you might be feeling that noose tightening.

Like my friend Julian, you might have to pay for fuel as part of your work, or your commute and notice you aren’t pocketing what you used to.

If you track the news, you almost certainly are wondering how this supposed ‘war on terror’ is going to end, if it ever does. Maybe you’ve noticed that feeling, like maybe the people on tv don’t even care if you’re paying attention anymore. In fact it seems an awfull lot like they assume you’re not paying attention at all doesn’t it?

Maybe the weather is getting your attention these days. And maybe after the latest ‘freak’ occurance, you might start to wonder when it stops being a ‘freak’ anything.

And if you’re like a lot of people, you laugh as much as you can and assume that at some point something will actually swing back the way you feel comfortable with. But deep down it’s not really all that funny anymore, and you’re wondering sometimes if you’re ever going to be comfortable with anything, ever again.

You look at these fuck-ups who supposedly run the world, and every so often you get a glimpse of something in their eyes, and you might see that they’re even more scared than you are. But of what?

Not that they’re all scared. Sometimes you get a tiny little flash of something that isn’t at all like fear.

It looks a lot like triumph doesn’t it? Like someone served them their favorite dish, and they can have as much of it as they please with not a care in the world.

And suddenly all the ‘rules’ of how the world is supposed to work now seem more like outdated concepts, and a lot of smart people seem to be trying really hard to find out what the fuck is going on, becasue nothing is making any sense.

And if you care to look at the numbers, and the pit of your stomach turns to ice, and you think ‘that can’t be right’. and you look again, and it still can’t be right.

and all your life, you’ve been taught that the world would get along just fine without you, that you didn’t need to worry about anything, and if you wanted to worry your pretty little head about something, that was just wonderfull, but feel free to keep sitting in front of the tv and eating junk food, and doing whatever it is people like you do, cause it’s all being handled.

really. it’s all being handled.

You think sometimes what it might be like to live as if something you did… actually mattered. As if something could actually change for real, and not just move around on the screen for awhile. that idea is so strange and foreign that you almost want to fight against it.

because, if that feeling is real, then maybe there always was something you could actually have done. and now you’re feeling more and more like it might be too late to do anything.

Because if it’s possible to actually be a hero, then that means it’s possible to actually be a villain. And if that’s true then it’s not hard to figure out who’s running things.

No. It’s not hard at all. Just do the math.

2 thoughts on “The Nature of the Catastrophe

  1. Kind of hard for the so-called experts to be able to figure out what’s fucking things up if all the reports they go on are falsified anyway, right?

    I mean, this is a specialist society. The people who crunch the numbers aren’t the same guys who gather them; and if the guys directing the number-crunchers also have sway over the number-reporters, and can manipulate the reports of the latter to get the former to report something favorable, just to get the guys reading the Executive Summary to jump one way or another, they will.

    Never mind that they’re stocking the shelves with vaporware while they’re selling the store out the back door at bargain-basement prices. When we figure out our stores are dry (sucked up and squandered by the power hogs), they’ll merely draft us en masse, put rifles in our hands, and ship us off to pillage the next market for them… then tell the survivors that we’re the “Greatest Generation” because we didn’t question why the fuck we were off blasting our new generation’s Krauts and Japs, just focusing on saving the world for Private Power, without even knowing it.

    There’s two solutions, one old, one new. The old solution is to get more violent than they could ever hope to be and crush them beneath a new iron fist… and replace their oppression with yours.

    The new solution is to outsmart, outwit, and outspeak these bastards by decoding their memetics and dissecting their bullshit in front of the public, under the glare of truth. Control mechanisms backfire when people are aware of them and their functions; NEVER underestimate the power of stupid people working together in large groups.

    What’s it going to be, folks? Revolution or Rebellion? The differences lie in the execution and in the end products. I don’t think there’s enough ammo to finish a Revolution; in a proper Rebellion, we could LAUGH them off the stage, and nobody needs to recieve bullets.

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