Yesterday I ran out of time (& it's running out for all of us) to conclude effectively my little load of righteous anger, by returning to the R. D. Laing reference (Hard to stop once a good spew of hatred, rage & pain starts, & the Santa Monica Public Library only gives one 90 mins./day.) The point being that if this unspeakably horrid culture/society/scam ("the world") that's been perpetrated/constructed on this once decent & honest planet by you awful mutants believes me to be "mentally ill" for not wanting to be a part of it, it is the one illin', not I. Step back & look in the mirror, world. Why would I want to have anything to do w/ either the ignoramuses or, even worse, those who think they know something, but don't?
For example:
Only 28% of the public knows that nearly 4,000 Americans have died in the Iraq war[.]
[...]
In the poll released Wednesday, around a third said about 3,000 U.S. troops have died and about one in 10 said 2,000. On the other hand, about a quarter put the figure close to 5,000. The actual number Wednesday was 3,987, according to the independent website icasualties.org.
Of course there's a partial excuse for this stupidity: The media needs you to be a brain-dead food tube, consuming tainted beef & useless Made-in-China-by-slave-laborers-who-have-what-used-to-be-your-jobs objects.
The portion of news stories that are about the war also has dropped in recent months, according to a study by the nonpartisan Project for Excellence in Journalism.
The medication I take doesn't make me feel any more like participating in or "contributing" (that means being exploited like a dog, for those of you reading by wrapping your lips around each & every syllable) to this world. Desiring blissful ignorance of & numbness to all that surrounds me (Will it & they never shut up?) is a healthy reaction, not a sick one.
Enough of this, already. What's the point (of anything)?
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