The banner atop the highest pinnacle of this castle of shit simply reads: Purgamentum init, exit purgamentum. Of course it's in Latin so that few question whether it actually has any meaning or not, and fewer still, question what that meaning actually is. But sufficed to say your soaking in it now and that's all that counts.
We've all been so busy trying to convince ourselves of anything but the truth that every room in shit castle has a different Febreeze™ scent: shit in a pine forest, shit in a summer breeze, shit next to the ocean, shit in a rose bush, or the popular apple pie à là shit... But try as you may, in the end, you'll still be surrounded by shit... Once you admit that it smells like someone shit in a rose bush, you will slowly begin to realize that by not spraying that rosebush scent, there were never any roses to begin with... In fact, those of you on the lower floors might even discern that it actually smells like someone shit in a gas tank... And you would not be far from the truth, because I believe the plan is to burn down shit castle with as many people still inside as possible.
I know the exits are not clearly labelled, that's because there are no exits. That would have been too obvious even for simpletons like ourselves who've been living in shit whilst claiming our shit don't stink all these years. The exits were not created by those who built shit castle, because they did not build it for themselves. Therefore it will take creative thinking and teamwork to build exits of our own. We must detabooify our minds of all the myths we've been programmed to believe to get there.
My point here is everybody shits, or, everybody but Jarred's make-believe girlfriend does at least. So long as we don't allow ourselves to be drawn into that "my shit don't stink", or "my shit's more righteous than your shit" shit flinging contest we are already more than half-way to the gates. True, with all the shit going on it's hard to believe you can turn your back on someone that won't shove a handful of shit in your face the second they get the chance, which is exactly where they want us: paranoid and dodging shit. Having to take the defensive is one of the tactics used to make you out to be full of shit, especially when you weren't ready to dodge. It makes for a reaction that looks to stem from a drunkard covered in his own shit.
We're well past the emperor's new clothes at this point in time. That ship sailed in the 60's & 70's and discovered that the world is flat. Small discoveries might have been made in the interest of the greater good, but they have been far outweighed by the political-correctness and double-speak mumbo-jumbo. So what we're left with is the self-guided Armageddon train with no breaks running downhill full steam toward the precipice. Our choice is to stay on the tracks and hope for a miracle, or get off the tracks and get the hell out of dodge.
True, there's no way of knowing if I am full of shit or not, and I would be the last to say my shit don't stink. But so long as I feel writing about shit serves some greater good in the long run (even insomuch as to clear all this shit from my head like some kind of mental laxative), I see no real reason to stop trying to name all the shits and point and laugh at all the shitheads who are shitting on the neighbours lawn and blaming the guy down the street.