The rhetoric is gun control, vaccination, aggressive acts against sovereign nations who have what we think we need, Monsanto shall feed the world, poisons in your faucet, doped into dreamland, freedom of limited speech in a gentrified language of sterile words, praise the chosen ones who must be saved for they, and they alone learned how to rob the world blind via banking, where the revolving doors of CEO turned senator turned CEO generates a centrifugal force of corporate welfare paying themselves hefty bonuses for offshoring your jobs with your hard earned labour.
Don't ask the mirror on the wall "who's corruptest of them all?" It's made a 'don't ask, don't tell' deal with the devil in exchange for sexual favours while you slept peacefully in the next room.
Normally you might try to follow the money to find your proof, but eventually that trail leads to less than water vapour valued lower than a weeks old dog turd. And then what?
Write your government? Call the police? On the surface, they might even sound helpful, and some may even be genuine, but, eventually, that leads to the undeniable fact that justice was not meant for them because the safety and security of the universe is somehow at stake.
The final nail in our coffin as the safety and security of all we know and love dissolve into an unlit 4x4 cage in the diplomatically immune territory on the intersection of rape and torture.
But that's OK.
There were those people in the mirror, mirror who said these are the tools we need to fight terror. The modus operandi being if you grope a billion testicles you're bound to eventually fondle a bad seed.
Don't you worry. The rest of your loved ones will realize you've gone missing and they'll call for justice. Maybe they'll suffer less at the hands of a drone, guided by kids with their Xbox controllers in hand, trumpeting how realistic the graphics are! (Rated 14+)
How did we come to be here?
[continued in ...Slow night and the seven deadly dwarfs.]