Thursday, 17 April 2014

the pungent scent of incensed

I wish, sometimes, that I could find even the smallest bit of shock and surprise (or do I mean awe?) when a dead horse comes home to roost... It's actually laughable to watch the media break out a long cremated phony thoroughbred Jackalope to launch from a confetti canon in an effort to demonize an entire nation for undoing the efforts of those who are out to steal anything nailed down or not. And in other news: the sun rose on schedule...

Quebec elected a brain surgeon, and I got a job... It pays less than the job my 19 year-old son was hired for on the same day, has zero benefits, and is paid out in the loathsome currency of debt which everyone still seems fond of calling money, yet strangely, doesn't feel like I shall be treated with the same: worthless lower than dirt, we could train a monkey to be smarter than you in two hours, corporate mindset that seems to have proliferated the ranks of management far and wide... But we shall see...

Yes, I've found the disposable job in which I might not be treated as a disposable person, hopefully... yet somehow, I still doubt it

Spring is sprung, the grass is rizz, the media still wonders where that Malaysian plane is... But that's the whole bait and switch which will be used to limit air travel to those who will soon need to rapidly escape the rest of us... I love the smell of unrest in the morning.

Ah, but, I still don't smell it... I see the plans unraveling all around, and not in any orderly or apparently planned fashion and yet the scent of incense, or the burning wrath of the incensed are still in such minor undertones that only the nose of bloodhounds seem the least bit alerted. I suppose it's possible that these things are only seen by those who are actively looking, yet they appear, to me, as obvious as walking around with dog shit stuck to the heel of one shoe.

One only need look up a chart of the inflation rate to understand what happens once bankers are green lighted on running the economy of nations (into the ground), or look at the state of any nation who was promised prosperity by the IMF to realize what the plan has been all along. Oh, you said austerity... I suppose with enough lisp the two sound similar enough.

Nobody can borrow happiness... Happiness can only be given or found... Anyone who tells you differently is obviously selling something, and chances are it isn't something you actually need.


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