the words are the weapons, skewing logic and reason by inventing tricks
of their own to counterbalance those real righteous forces that make the
world work, and we are but one part to blame needing to realize the
greater responsibility we play in creating this thing we see… people
treat each other like various types of meats, and don’t necessarily
prefer listening to a self-perceived string of ornamental syllables
which may allow nonsense to flourish, as we must be the beings of pure
intellect required to change this place… or is it just shooting blanks
in the dark?… a total reversal of the psychotic logic we have come to
claim as our own, the political prestidigitation is merely a rabbit up
the sleeve for the fellow tricksters out there, and a tip of the hat
towards the propagandist’s confusions as their marketing and mass appeal
have made us believe what they want us to believe… profiting from the
backwater crowd that makes their living toiling under the thumbs of a
joyless future altogether wrong, working the machines that the
commercial interest feels is necessary to make the masses furiously move
into place, and to checkmate the opponents out of the game completely…
the dead rabbit is Here the magic man, skinned and nullified of brains,
but this dark ghost will not die or fade so easily away… the skeletal
form lurks from a creepy closet locked closed by the other minds, they
don’t want to truthfully acknowledge the presence of these previous
victims living revenge, and cannot see the consequences of treacherous
acts they commit themselves to as causes that shepherd the whole…
however, this ‘mastery’ can only come through the reliance upon the
others becoming the requisite ‘slavery’, and it through this lop-sided
lens that we receive our salaries and vacation days… strangers who
choose to vacate their simple predisposed roles, refuse to barter for
goods in exchange for their feats of labor, and the strange days that
take away the pain from knowing the other side of this class struggle…
where there is a death struggle in the realization of
self-consciousness, this new relationship grows out of the truth of
oneself as self-conscious because neither can die, or the realization
never occurs honestly enough to be acknowledged properly… it becomes a
false fate that we dance around carefully...
