Getting more physical. Conspiracists say it was alien ships that kidnapped our ancestors and deposited them in unpopulated areas of the planet – any way you row the boat, you still gotta catch game and eat it.
Crunching the numbers. Does your talent languish?
A nod to Geraldine Ferraro.
All I want is the American Dream.
All I want is the American Dream.
All I want is the American Dream.
In bright, graphic detail, preferably.
All I want is the American Dream, white picketing fencesitters not allowed.
Dang it all if lunch isn’t here again. My stock picks will have to make gains on their own without my news manipulators waiting on my next mandibular move.
Have you ever watched a stained glass window come to life through colour filter manipulation behind the silica framework, solar and other visible rays playing tricks on your eyes?
I chased a lizard through the woods and shot it with a photographic freeze frame. It ran and hid beneath a stone overhang.
Is that what you call communing with nature?
Is civilisation history?
Is reality really hidden from view?
And finally, the future of scientific discoveries belongs to our youth, does it not?
Is it lunchtime, already?
While walking to the end of a street to understand why two houses are built on the property at 514 Mohawk Road, trying to determine the covenant/neighbourhood agreement concerning construction projects, it occurred.
It?
Yes, it is what it is.
The awful, dreaded word that hangs in the back of the throat of any [North American] English teacher trying to convince students to think and write more creatively, succinctly and specifically.
Then the band nerd walked into the picture.
What is it about that image?
Thing?
No.
That?
No.
It?
Yes.
Semi-professional game show contestants.
It is a subclass all its own.
You don’t need a degree in geotechnical terminology.
The school of hard knocks or Imagineering will do.
I ought to know. My cousins, aunt and uncle starred on “The Family Feud” many moons ago.
Once you’re part of the system, you’re it.
The next big thing.
“IT” in bright lights at the top of the cinema marquee.
More important than a marquis.
Marked for life.
In front of the camera rather than the staff of anonymous faces behind it.
A mover and a shaker.
A veritable moviemaker.
From then on, you’re the big cheese, the rumble in the concrete jungle, the jingle singer, the single jangle, the bauble, the bangle and the face that inspires the candlestick lighter.
You ask Franklin Graham to produce the names of people he says are controlling your government’s leaders.
You ask, “Is this it?”
It is.
Must be, ’cause Putin’s in Serbia and W’s making the speaker circuit pay dividends.
It.
I. T.
Information technology?
Could be.
What’s next?
Bangladesh.
Bang the desk!
Have we diverted you long enough to complete a task under your nose so we can let you get back to the last news item that seemed so important at the time?
Yes, we have.
There’s always something else that’s it.
Of course, that’s it!
You didn’t think that iron ore mine would last forever, did you, Fe Maiden?
Every Lord of the Flies concedes defeat at the feet of the next ruthless leader.
We cheer for the power of the people but’s it’s the law of the jungle that rules us all.
Will your government ever balance the books or keep cooking them on a backburner?
Guess what – tag, you’re it!
The Committee gave me permission to reveal part of the grand plan for our planetary ecosystem.
As you know, many of the so-called species exhibit a style of behaviour we call socialism (the social kind, not the political kind, and not necessarily social kindness, either).
In order to complete the assignment, the only true function, of the Committee – its raison d’être and joie de vivre wrapped up into one, if you will – we have decided to show what should be perfectly obvious to you by now.
Throughout history, we have attempted to turn the planet into a superhuman.
Civilisation after civilisation, we have encouraged the development of roads and speedy communications systems to emulate a superset of thoughts flowing over the set of thoughts of individuals like you and me.
With time, we will succeed.
Regardless of the success of the current version of a global village, we are learning much.
For instance, we have very nearly completed the construction of the electrical wiring and automatic functions that serve as a virtual brain stem.
Some rudimentary memory and emotional systems are in the works.
However, based on projections for environmental reconfiguration* that our neutral scientists on retainer provided for a lifetime supply of sponge cakes, we aren’t positively sure that we’ll complete the planet-as-superhuman-model in the next few hundred years before we run of the resources we’ve dedicated to the latest version (in other words, we let you determine the construction method while we provide a general guiding hand).
[*we highly recommend that you refrain from thinking in terms of “global warming” or “climate change,” because it’s much more complicated than a few soundbites or catchphrases; speaking of which, is the APstylebook even necessary anymore? Doesn’t anything go in this multicultural symphony of phonemes, phonies and mobl fon txtrs?]
Now, can you see how important you are as a node within a node within a node?
One friend of mine still thinks that it’s aliens that are controlling us like little robots doing their bidding. He has built up a whole series of theories that constitute a personal religion to him.
I give him his freedom to believe what he wishes, as long as he doesn’t decide to dissect me to look for the microcontroller that’s embedded in my brain and has tentacles than run throughout my body (yes, you can see how he’s influenced by movies (“MIB,” “ID4,” etc.) to believe that the brain and nervous system are actual parts of an alien-based controlling subsystem).
My job, while exposing the fraudulent detractors, is to keep you focused on the big picture. The NDA prevents me from shouting out everything I know but don’t know how to describe all at once (or simply don’t know how to describe).
I’ll keep trying.
I’ve shown you how easy it is to rile some of you up, throw out the bait and set the hook to capture your undivided attention.
Let’s get busy. We have the opportunity to do this right (even if there’s no right answer).
Billions of us will die before it’s all said and done but that’s the way it’s always been – don’t know why I get upset knowing so few of us will live to complete the current assignment, which may still take several iterations of global civilisation re/construction.
I have my specific assignment to complete, also, putting many of you to use without your knowledge. Don’t worry – you’ll get credit.
Just like LaTonya at the main Red Cross office who arranged my apheresis appointment so I can save lives of people I’ll probably never know or meet.
Or Jennifer Garner, who hired a band to entertain behind-the-scenes workers like my former schoolmate, Toby Sells, FX artiste.
Or Brett Frasier, who is supporting the global war on terrorism from “behind the fence,” as they say.
Or the people on both sides of the major line of disagreement in Libya – you have families to raise and tell your reasons for resisting the other side – your arguments are valid but only one major storyline will be written in the history books about your sacrifice.
Any ol’ country guy or gal knows we are what we experience. Don’t need no fancy edumacashunal degrees of false wisdom to see the truth.
But what do we really experience? The MYND wants to know.
Were European explorers proponents of iconoclasm?
And I thought Donald Trump was prehistoric.
First cross-reference of the day.
Have you ever watched the slow progress of skin cancer and you’re not telling anyone because you want to see what skin cancer is all about, taking the risk of metastasising states of energy taking over the rest of your so-called body?
Did your spouse die on your watch and now you’re trying to convince your spouse’s mother to move in with you but she’s hesitant because everything about you – you, your house, your lifestyle, your town (maybe even your own children (i.e., her grandchildren, except for her nonblood relations, a grandson in-law and son in-law)) – reminds her of her dead child and she’s too old/frail to have/want to relive those memories, including an upcoming wedding that to her will dredge up the old memories again? Are you willing to face those facts and let sleeping dogs lie?
Have you realised your joyous anticipation of your spouse’s out-of-town business trips is telling you something you’re trying not to think about?
Do you save an organisation for your own enjoyment by getting rid of people in the organisation who are opposed to you and/or your subcultural icons? Or do you throw the baby out with the bath water and move on to some other form of enjoyment that your subculture has created for you, even if it’s not exactly what you want?
Am I afraid to speak to myself in specific terms here because, although I know no one reads these words, it feels like others misinterpret what I say for their personal agendum/agenda that conflict with the big picture that I and the Committee are painting?
I volunteered to take on the job of sacrificing billions of my kind for something that has an infinitesimal chance of success and which none of us will know if we succeeded.
I also know that when you start destroying whole subcultures for the sake of the culture, you create a subclass of anarchic saboteurs who may or may not get funding from out-of-favour aristocrats wanting to force their agenda back into the limelight.
I realise that some of those on the Committee are the very same aristocrats who fought their way back into a position of power, thinking they’re getting what they want, and me knowing that they’ll ultimately fail, so we throw them a lot of high-profit business their way that has no strong effect on the big picture (although it does drag its progress back in time slightly) and keeps them preoccupied with fanning their vanity.
I once believed a Committee membership was a position of purity and sanctity. I strived to cleanse the main path of my thoughts of signposts pointing to side trails I took to entertain myself. That way, I would be fully focused on my Committee membership and nothing else.
As if the Committee was composed of godlike beings, not another person like me who is full of conflicting wants and needs.
I don’t crave power. I have one simple want and need – freedom for freedom’s sake alone.
Along the way, my domesticated, caged states of energy hypnotised themselves into believing freedom is real.
It’s all relative, I suppose.
The “I” that doesn’t exist fooled itself into existence and now is struggling to free itself from staring at its false sense of self in the vanity mirror.
2011 is a tough year, indeed. So many more millions of people to let die or kill for a purpose I can’t guarantee myself is worth the cost.
Billions in the longterm.
If you only knew what was really going on.
The rest of the Committee laughs whenever they hear me struggle to explain to you the unexplainable, the ultimate nondisclosure agreement.
Giving me the leadership of the Committee was a cruel joke.
I wish I could share the punchline with you – it’s the funniest one you’ll ever hear, making anything else that seems humourous impale your comparisons.
treetrunkdings 