None of Us Are Immune

As a good portion of the West seeks new ways to off itself with the dawn of each new day, inquiring minds want to know how much longer do we have left to live?

An answer to this perplexing question depends on what particular worldview one has spent much of their life dedicated to.

If you’re young, say under 30 years old, you probably could give a shyte about what is in store for you with the dawn of each new day. In your worldview, death is light years away. You simply don’t care. But your apathetic worldview really isn’t your fault.  You weren’t fed much of anything other than horseshit soup through the years, equipped only with learning thumb dexterity so that you could stay a part of the a generation of not knowing what is going on, given no historical reference that there was life before the day your were born, and buying into the prevailing wisdom from schools, universities and social media that there isn’t much of anything worthy to explore outside of the body part that provides you the most pleasure when stimulated. Expecting you to have an ounce of knowing much of anything outside what the dumbphone in your hand tells you minute by minute – giving a shyte about anything outside of the what might please your senses from one moment to the next, isn’t in your wheel house.  Ho Hum, eh?

Beyond 30 years but before the magical age of 50, your time has been spent listening to those within your age range tell you tales of the most magical of BS that makes you wonder what kind of incoherent train of nonsense that you missed.

The incoherent train of nonsense could be from bosses, supervisors, managers, VP’s and CEO’s – you know, those nutjobs who were promoted along the way because they aligned themselves with the proper ass above them to kiss. It could be listening to social media dimwits who seem to have their act together because they’ve accumulated worthless junk; it could be intellectual voids, convincing you that your life is lacking if you don’t listen to their special brand of nuttiness, after all, they’ve spent many of their years thinking deeply on the subject of what this life is all about – and they are certain they have stumbled upon some grandiose scheme that only they are hip to of the ways of the universe, and if you just continue to listen to their insanity, you too will come away with the perpetual state of ignorance that they have bathed in throughout their years.

But no matter whether these charlatans are “left” or “right” – they pack a punch of sublime stupidity passed off as wisdom for a paragraph or two, a 10 minute segment on the radio, or 2 minutes of displaying their supreme stupidity on television. They’re on TV, they’re on the radio, they’re in print, so surely they must know. They don’t. But they sure count on you believing their shyte doesn’t stink. But it does…in the extreme.

And then the “golden” years set in, and if you still give more than a turd of an original thought of what you are all about, you take on the permanent look of ultra-bewilderment. How else to explain the lost look so many of us elderly folks have?

Of course we (the elderly) are bewildered. How could we not be?  We’re also angry (because we’re in pain most of the time). We’re perplexed with the bill of BS we’ve believed all these years; we’re sentimental for the times when the BS we believed at least had a short-lived dividend paid with love, laughter and joy, until the bags of modern day rotted filth took most of what is beautiful and turned it into a three-ring circus of decadence, ugliness and insanity.

Just as the younger generation of today, the elderly generation is lost – suffering in a sea of assisted living facilities, wondering if the next person to come through the tiny room that is their world will be one of the nursing angels to help them through a trip to the restroom, or more preferably, a friend, relative, or loved one who dropped by just because they love you. They may suffer from alzheimer’s, from dementia, from a host of other ailments – but they still know when YOU pay them a visit.

As the corporate monsters seek to censor any thoughts outside their accepted realm of all that is not real, as they close down websites, shut out voices that dissent from their current BS – they have the short-sided view that they will be immune from the strangling of beauty, of free thought, of free speech when their time comes.

Each of our times comes in varying ways. But in the end, we are all on our own when we meet our maker.

It’s cute, hip and arrogant to believe that when our time living in the grand comedy ends, though maybe light years away, it is some odd and unfortunate problem that only our grandparents face.

Each of us will meet the fate of the billions of others who have lived and died before us.

No matter that one works for the “Man”, no matter that one is just doing “their jobs” – when you who are young – vibrant, full of a zest and inquisitiveness that the elderly no longer can abide by simply because they are too damn old and suffering – when you silence one, you silence everyone, including, yourselves.

As you censor, quiet, and stifle the voices whom you don’t agree with, you are, in the end, stamping a boot on freedom – freedom of expression and freedom of speech.

Sadly, such ignorance and willingness to go along with the current corporate guano is applauded and rewarded by the shysters and psychopaths in charge – you know, the ones who reward themselves with billions, and you, with barely a living wage.

It is too easy to think that the charges we level against others, the burdens we heap upon innocents won’t come home to rest on each of us.  But they will.

Don’t lay out any money that when your time comes, the corporate a-holes you’ve sold your heart and soul to will come to your rescue. They won’t!

None of us are immune. And our only hope, really, is to stand for each voice individually – and collectively, we might each stand a chance.


Tonight’s musical offering:

Ravel: “Bolero” ~ London Symphony Orchestra ~ Conductor/ Valery Gergiev

(the most magnificent recording that must be listened to with full screen enabled, full volume, and headphones on for full sensory enjoyment)

Photo credit (front page):

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