Gilead and the Accelerator
Is this how it happens? With sad, greedy old men willing to be whores for an idiot? With acidic women twisting their tongues to please a pussy grabbing charlatan? How can so many fall so fast? Mocking, dissembling, excusing...ready to extinguish decency in order to protect their own small, derelict hides. “Apres-nous le déluge”, she said. Witness the great circumambulation of history.
Shame.
Gilead is rising. No...Gilead was rising and has now reached the mouth of an accelerator. There’s a fascinating aspect to it, I admit. From outside it feels like a slow-moving implosion, each day’s destruction worse than what came before. We watch it unfold, frame by frame. New revelations, new unhinged rants, new markers laid down as history gazes upon a now fluid reality, and waits. It waits as crowds gather to chant, embracing a discourse unfit for any normal, respectful human being. Values be damned. Laughing at insane tales of toilets that won’t flush and dishwashers that don’t wash—not like they did in the “good ole days”. The brilliant whitewashed days of night crosses and coal.
“Look at our Nude Emperor!” they sing. “He’s one of us!”, they sing. And the Nude Emperor smiles because he can’t believe his luck. Despite a pathological ability to convince himself of anything, deep down he still can't fathom his growing power. “How can people actually be so fucking stupid?” he thinks in silence, before launching into a tirade against Shifty Shift and Crazy Nancy and Sleepy-Eye Todd. And he screams and points at the news cameras in the back whose tally lights just went out. The Fuckers. The Fake Media. And they all cheer and sneer even though they know the lights were never on. Their brains linger and wallow in wave upon wave of pure hate, hitting the shores in a rising tide, as they long to be absorbed. As they long for the dark, narcotic ocean—leading their children with them into the depths.
...
I believe there is an America out there, desperately fighting to emerge from these death throes. But its days are counted. There are only so many markers left before the road ends. And I write these words knowing they may come back to haunt me. That I may eventually be tagged by The New Order. Because yes, this is where we are now, make no mistake.
This is the accelerator phase.
Your clock is ticking my friends.
