Words fail us

(Intimacy is a virus.)

It is a cliche that words are not enough. When the task is to communicate across a bitter divide in the midst of the fiercest and most unrelenting propaganda campaign in human history, as globalist tyrants bet their mightily deranged farm against the rest of humanity in dogged pursuit of a pristine, ordered global system that does away, once and for all, with all that is ugly, uncouth and untamed in homo sapiens, words can only fail us. Words have become our enemy as  surely as we are our own worst enemies. This moment is truly civilisation’s bitter harvest.

I am being provocative because words fail us.

I am trying not to shout because words fail us.

Always: I fumble my righteous anger, misguide my noble efforts to let right be done; words are not enough. The way out of this predictable collective breakdown begins within, in silence. (Another cliche.)

Michael Jackson sang, “If you wanna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make that change!” It, too, is a cliche because words have been abused almost beyond repair.

Where is honesty? What is honesty? A commodity? Something talented actors and politicians sell? Will you be buying the Left or Right today? Which half of reality would you like to condemn?

What hasn’t been said. Yes, there are endless ways of saying the same thing, but it has all been said. 

We are children sat sulking in a boundless playroom, surrounded by an infinity of toys, malcontents forevermore, inconsolable in our cornucopias of individualised fun.

I am being provocative because words fail us. Words betray us. It is their retribution, payback for the abuse.

For a while, a few years ago, I admired academic rigour. Now, mostly, I see it as self-preening noise splintering itself out into vacuity, oddly out of options in its endlessly divisible rubric. 

Is there anything that can’t be proved? 

Casuistry is a deadly skill. Who trusts lawyers? Who trusts politicians? Sorry, The Science. Who trusts salesmen? Sorry, saleswomen. Er, salesfolk? And yet the entities pushing drugs for profit are orchestrating us to believe that infection and contagion are now morally reprehensible. How dare you risk someone somewhere dying! You unhuman! You animal! 

Each one of us is either an actual or potential domestic terrorist because we are alive. Better put your unthinking obedience brightly on display! Only then will you be safe.

The insanity is so absolute it is beyond comprehension. It is a dumb scream collapsed to white noise.

But the tyrant lives symbiotically within and without. The outer signals to the inner and we respond, darkly beguiled by what we refuse to know we have become. We are tended neuroses grown obsessional with our unique preferences. Double-de-caff latte with thrice-blended goat’s milk boiled then cooled to 72 degrees celsius and served in a pig-pink recycled-recyclable cup, NOW!

A narcissistic system spawns narcissism, and narcissists are insatiable. Emptiness is the fuel. And of course this too is a platitude; it’s all been said before.

Become too afraid to know our divinity, we choose to deny there is only god. Too afraid of opprobrium, of jeers, of being a conspiracy theorist, of being the fool, the odd one out exposed in our secret atom-loneliness, we choose ordered mechanics.

Spiritually bankrupt, desperate for safety, we are skilfully nudged through swirls of words away from all memory of love.

How much longer can we bear life this way? How far too late?