If I can make my own reality, then denial is a natural consequence.
I don’t have to worry about the fate of the world’s poor, or the health of the planet, even though I use 50 times more air, water, food, and shelter than the masses. All I must do is say “It’s ok to have nice things,” and that takes care of it. Simple.
I don’t need to worry myself about the erosion of private life, or being set upon by predatory corporate interests. They are entitled to make a little profit, and since I’m not doing anything illegal, there’s nothing for me to worry about anyway.
I don’t need to concern myself if my country’s democratic processes have turned into mob rule. Democracy is messy, if you don’t like it you can go back wherever you came from.
It’s none of my business if the state routinely attacks persons of color, they’re all rapists and drug dealers anyway.
Gosh, it’s true. For every problem there really is a solution.
via Daily Prompt: Denial
First there’s this sort of pain in my eyeballs. It’s like I slept with my eyes open down wind from the Sriracha plant. It’s almost like its boring inward. Like into the back side of the eyeball. And then it sort of sweeps upward, like, into my brain. In there it feels like little barbed-wire cobwebs being electrified on opposite side of my head. And you can feel the heartbeat in it. Like boomba boomba boomba.
And then my chest feels like it has a metaphor in it. It’s a kind of wheezing that sits right in the center of my chest that sounds like cats being drowned very quietly. From there it sort of radiates outward through the rest of my chest. First the wheezing, then, the signal fires are lit! The wheezing gets transmitted by fire messenger all the way around to my back. The muscles there are getting very tight from the burning and coughing, clenching tighter and tighter like I’m being consumed by an constrictor.
Other than that I’m ok.
via Daily Prompt: Symptom
Controversy is the stuff that attracts eyeballs. It is the new currency, being translated directly into the fevered accounts of tech-bubble billionaires and their endlessly grasping cohorts. It swirls around every public figure like a tornado, uncaring of the damage it inflicts. That giant whooshing sound you hear? It is the sound of us destroying ourselves, an entire culture disappearing up its own asshole.
For the canny politician or anti-vax blogger, controversy is cultivated. Farmed like potatoes, controversy drives votes and likes and tweet-storms. What you say doesn’t matter at all, what matters is collecting attention. If you cause some children to die due to lack of competant medical care, who cares? If you destroy democratic institutions and the best chance to protect the people from plutocrats, so what? For a certain character, it only matters that you drive the news.
For the more hapless among us, controversy is forced out of our hands. How many public figures have we seen self-destruct because they thought they could control the narrative? (Still angry at you, Bill, for destroying the best hope of a generation to satisfy your penis.)
What we must remember always is that despite our feeling of righteous indignation, carefully groomed from some publicist or operative or ad-man’s wet dream, we encourage wave after wave of controversy simply by looking at it. We are rubber-neckers at a car crash. Further, our attention doesn’t give insight or solutions or even the illusion of fairness. It only feeds the trolls.
via Daily Prompt: Controversy
Blurr in front of Trrump Chicago
via Daily Prompt: Blur