When your formerly beloved country devolves into a red headed coke snorting dictatorship, there are a few things people should know. This one is taking place in a media society. In a media society, the most important thing in your life is what you look like. The way you sound on a digital recording is a close second, since it's the only impression you will be likely to make on anyone, since people stopped interacting socially thirty fucking years ago. We chat on the Internet.
Content only matters if it pisses off the Red Head or his peeps, so it's smart to limit text to frivolous nonsense. Adult level nursery rhymes. Puff pieces about your favorite single malt Scotch. Or better, the way you made Christmas special for people who actually belong in the US. But there is the largest contradiction of all to talk about. There is only one smart move in a fascist fuck hole: do a lot of singing and dancing.
Asinine as this probably sounds, don't forget that during the Great Depression people flocked to movie theaters to watch Shirley Temple boogie down with Bojangles Robinson. The very dangerous femme former FBI director, J. Edgar Hoover loved party hats and show tunes. Also, gala events. So did Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini. I hate Broadway show tunes, but prefer not to be jailed or killed by a platinum blond death squad. They are into bands like Metalica and the Misfits, but everyone else has a Darwinian imperative to play Barry Manilow, Barry White, and Bing Fucking Crosby. In the event the blond death squads get their marching orders, the way you dress, talk, sing and dance could be the difference between still doing it, and taking a couple clips in the bread basket, auspices of big guns. In a dictatorship, it becomes wise to amuse and entertain your oppressors.
Protesting won't work. It's totalitarian. It's like protesting the moon. The moon won't go away because you don't care for it's politics or it's diplomacy. I do. I love the silence. But that's irrelevant to a media society that lives and breathes moving pictures and memes. Diplomacy is completely out of the hands of the public, so there's no point trying to influence the way the US interacts with foreign governments. Not that it matters to the wee folk, but diplomacy isn't what it was. No Winston Churchill blowing smoke with a dignified Hitler and Stalin. Now world leaders form butt buddy relationships, like the one between Trump and Putin. The North Korean dictator is a butt buddy of Dennis Rodman's. All diplomats are one of two peole: Beavis or Butthead. Nearest substitute, Wayne's World by satellite. No distinction, no dignity, no useless high-mindedness. Just business between fascist butt buddies. It's pathetic, but their people can have you killed, which is why it's best to dress cute, talk sweet, stage gala parties, and for the love of God, post videos on youtube. Good luck.
Content only matters if it pisses off the Red Head or his peeps, so it's smart to limit text to frivolous nonsense. Adult level nursery rhymes. Puff pieces about your favorite single malt Scotch. Or better, the way you made Christmas special for people who actually belong in the US. But there is the largest contradiction of all to talk about. There is only one smart move in a fascist fuck hole: do a lot of singing and dancing.
Asinine as this probably sounds, don't forget that during the Great Depression people flocked to movie theaters to watch Shirley Temple boogie down with Bojangles Robinson. The very dangerous femme former FBI director, J. Edgar Hoover loved party hats and show tunes. Also, gala events. So did Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini. I hate Broadway show tunes, but prefer not to be jailed or killed by a platinum blond death squad. They are into bands like Metalica and the Misfits, but everyone else has a Darwinian imperative to play Barry Manilow, Barry White, and Bing Fucking Crosby. In the event the blond death squads get their marching orders, the way you dress, talk, sing and dance could be the difference between still doing it, and taking a couple clips in the bread basket, auspices of big guns. In a dictatorship, it becomes wise to amuse and entertain your oppressors.
Protesting won't work. It's totalitarian. It's like protesting the moon. The moon won't go away because you don't care for it's politics or it's diplomacy. I do. I love the silence. But that's irrelevant to a media society that lives and breathes moving pictures and memes. Diplomacy is completely out of the hands of the public, so there's no point trying to influence the way the US interacts with foreign governments. Not that it matters to the wee folk, but diplomacy isn't what it was. No Winston Churchill blowing smoke with a dignified Hitler and Stalin. Now world leaders form butt buddy relationships, like the one between Trump and Putin. The North Korean dictator is a butt buddy of Dennis Rodman's. All diplomats are one of two peole: Beavis or Butthead. Nearest substitute, Wayne's World by satellite. No distinction, no dignity, no useless high-mindedness. Just business between fascist butt buddies. It's pathetic, but their people can have you killed, which is why it's best to dress cute, talk sweet, stage gala parties, and for the love of God, post videos on youtube. Good luck.
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