“For greater efficiency, production is being standardized. We are sorry”
-The government in George Lucas’s THX1138 (1971, paraphrased)
When a society is framed as “do or die,” it is said that the people must “sink or swim.” However, such limricks are invariably broadcasted by taskmasters with privileged and poisonous pride, whose graded rancor ranks how stably they sit, comfortably and safely, on the dock of taskmastering.
With such a society as nearly nothing more than a massive assembly line, the whole will be—for some people, some of the time—greater than the sum of its parts; negligibly different, for many people, than a society which values holism and justice; and, for some people, absolute hell on earth; with all but all simply plodding along—unable, by the cultural graffiti of endless categories, to see the bigger picture: the underlying theme.
Thus did the USA, for no less than decades, feed on a host of hosts—a myriad Chinese slaves—at the behest of a multitude of governmental parasites in both nations. Years later, the leverage this produced for the Chinese (who survived) occasioned a figurehead among USA’s slaves to decry the “trade-imbalance” consequence of USA’s generations of parasitism: “China is killing us on trade!,” trumpeted the trumped up jester, stirring rage into the apathy that previously defined the sea of sociopolitical diabetics, as their limbs of privilege were unceremoniously severed, to serve as an ingredient for the pseudo-Jews among them to sublimate into their next subprime stew. And eventually, in that closed circuit, everything withered, died, and was reborn.
In the meantime, another piece of this tyranny flashed and faded, in the form of a little awkward black kid from Gary, Indiana, named “Michael Jackson,” who was beaten into self-hatred, psychopathy, stardom, and a very early death—by a mediocre father intent on living vicariously and monetarily through his dark and dreary brood. Jackson’s spiritual carcass being drugged and dragged quickly and fatally through the gauntlet of fame and fortune caused, among countless self-hating failures, the dizzying, distracting envy that they had all come to call “happiness,” as he flung himself, with much help, into a brief life of bright and blinding misery.
On it went: Vampire Capitalists grinding humanity as often as able into a machinery of mangled, mismatched meat—then gnawing at the bones of culture with white yet rotten teeth; until they too descended quitely into dust.