Stupidity is contagious. Moreover, it’s easy. Not evil, much like any other pathogen, but you still wouldn’t want it around you or your friend. Just because it’s morally ambiguous, doesn’t mean we need accept its existence. Not a plague of body, but spirit.
Stupidity spreads itself by exploiting our biases and tendencies to admire entertaining celebrities, attractive? Sure, but not substantive.
Like a pathogen we don’t eradicated the carriers, nor shame them for their lack of sufficient luck. We rehabilitate and vaccinate them, making the disease unable to resurface.
The vaccination to stupidity comes through critical thinking, the rehabilitation through open and caring discussion. The spread of the disease however is only overcome through quarantine. Letting no infected mind slip by unchecked, exterminating the rats spreading it.
Cut off their bread supply.


Examples That Demonstrate a Written Rule’s Author

There are, it seems, Never enough examples to prove something that is not written into fact.
For studied conclusions, no matter how rare the enforcing example; Like Gassim in the Nefud Desert, it is written. For institutions, organizations or poor demonstrations of both who exploit the ‘written’ in writtens, There is a principle that many seem too eager to see everywhere and most see as reading too far into what is written.
Liberties take of actions written.
What I mean is both simple and nuanced. Returning to my initial flawed method to prove this. Take big business, or the more intellectual sounding corporations. (I can almost hear the economic conservatives reading throwing my pages to the ground with confident disgust.)
For these cretins I will nominate their usual fall guy. Coal please come to the stage.
The coal industry exists for two reasons: One to satisfy our lust for fluorescent blue lighting and two to make profit.
I could argue semantics of the later but I won’t. Brand is disposable and about as guided toward a morality as a flea is toward higher reasoning. I’ll trust you are not the same. The coal industry like most pertaining to the public is regulated. Some say too much, some say too little, flea sized perhaps; either way you will create elites of regulators or wealthy coal magnates, respectively.
Now the question becomes, which is more preferable? I believe there is a balance. For my original point of ‘liberties take of actions written.’ The later is more applicable. The sumation of the coal industry’s two functions is ‘sell you more coal.’
That is the singular directive of almost every corporation in the for profit sector without exception, though the product may vary.
Now, say, a particular politician wants to cut regulation on coal mining and sale of the product. Why? Because, simply, the magnates pay pretty bills for ones they’ve written, or influenced, to be past.
Or if you are more conservative in mindset, say it increased productivity of coal and increases GDP while the industry receives a tidy profit for the hard work.
Either liberty assumed to be taken from the action of this politician, has one result I have left out for the sake of suspense and respect of your intelligence, ‘aren’t I sly?’
It’s power transferring. ‘Anti-climactic, right?’ The unspoken and definitely not ‘written’ part of this bill is, in many cases, this deregulation makes it easier for the industry to follow its prime directive:
‘Sell More Coal.’
‘So what? The rich white guys get richer and buy obscene yachts to quell their small man syndrome. So what?’
Problem is this found obscene wealth is partially used for ‘efficiency expanding exersizes’ or in words of someone both literally and metaphorically less tongue tied. ‘cutting regulations.’
And so the politician takes the ‘campaign donations.’ or ‘gifts from friends.’ Etc etc, until we’re back two sentences again, only; ‘So what?’
‘The coal industry makes more money than there are stars, so what?’
Well with each of those regulations that is cut means lost jobs for coal miners, overtime, a for more extra unpaid shifts for the manager. I would mention the climate. Though I fear the fleas it would stur and the ranting and raging I would start.
Suffice to say. It’d be shit if there were no regulations and I’m sure you can tell why. The concern, to put it featherweight at best, I lay at corporations glass feet comes out of the fact that by their own modus operandi they will use any amount of money or manipulation to serve the goal of ‘Sell More Coal’ or generally profit acquisition.
As long as they are in the green the means are encouraged.
This would never make news.
This agreement between politician and coal magnate X would not have minutes, nor onlookers, nor taps, nor bugs, nor records. It would not be ‘written.’
So because of this two things are true the meetings take place outside the public sphere, never understood as ‘written’ it assures that everything that will be written on the subject of such a meeting is secondary or circumstantial. At best.
This is because the only first person evidence holder in such a meeting who must comment, has already been given what will become ‘written,’ law they are about to pass and compensation for that, or his is, more to a conservative read so believing that coal is cool as can be, that the talking points, are just their points. The latter way, to the corporations, even better, less cuts in the bottom-line or more capital to invest in convincing or smearing other politicians, the former ‘no worries. Good thing we cut regulations last time.’
None of this written or explicit, no book will elighten you with stats nor news story convince you with graphics because this no story in secondary or circumstantial, that isn’t sensationalisable. It is merely a logial liberty that could be taken of the possibilities of an action like deregulation contains in very definition. One can’t regulate the definition of deregulation. And there, is just one example that demonstrates there aren’t enough examples to prove, something that is not ‘written.’
This example is mirrored in many fields and industries so watch for what is not ‘written’
Seems I’ve written it.
Do you need another example?

Liberal party: from the hearty

We rage for our generation in the hopes the old ways remember the immorality of inconsistent belief. The first world obligated to remain vigulent to demented ideas from within,  to evil orange sprites

What happened? When was our progress smeared by selfish uses of our gear?

I hope ignorance and greed of 18th White ‘rights’ can be healed, for the sake of our beloved, I do try to hope. Seems all too true, this vigilance we must keep as fire in our chests, lest we see a future coloured darkest blue. Not long till the rich twitch from nooses and catch nicks from pitchforks for their abuses.

Higher networth… Seems only a dirth, while we sit praised and punished in one boomer breath. Payback’s a bitch from those with sewn lips and scarred thighs, can’t help but question the motives of Liberal voters, despite a fear of dogma to their side, I see only self interest and no bother. So many arguments of scale starring ‘why bother.’

Does that bother you? Wouldn’t it do? That precious few decide it fine for you to get screwed, while nihil surprise their profits grew. Sick of the values of work from those least down to earth. Doesn’t this seem insane? Very least strange?

Wonder my distain to the billion or so heirs names? While they so seamlessly gain while other lay slain. Yet heirs would say those in pain are our bane.

Hit’s a nerve don’t it? Like the nerve of big profit to profligate such hate.

Hypocrisy that can’t be playcated. I maintain I simply wonder, simply wonder on an explaintion.

Dear Rupert

Every off decision I’ve made forms craters and cuts on my face. I wonder how your pores aren’t excavated. I wonder how your flaws don’t flip you in your bed.

I wonder how you reach ‘the current plan’ did you care? Did you know? Could you show me so? Where does your sole land and where does your soiled soul sleep? Does it weep? Is it a slug like monster that coils in a ball sucking the light from your eyes for sustinance? Behind those thick rimmed glasses can you make out anything but your singular goals? Do you not see our nooses or have you forgotten you have one too? The higher the tower you build in life, the further you fall limp and lifeless at the end falling of breakneck till you break your neck.

Do those glasses shield your eyes up there? Do you expect what you are given? Do you believe you deserve it? Do you think you earnt shit? Do you believe what you preach? do you want free speech? Can you accept your open concete? Have you realised your own demise? Do you know your history? Or is it just another sound mystery?

How can you remain so blissfully unaware betting with others lives without care?


The G Figure

In the name I find myself longing after there is only an echo, a little tinny voice that speaks back at me, mockingly in my own voice as if to say ‘that’s what you sound like.’ As I call the name of a deity that allows famine, with our free will as their only defence I hear only the wind reply. As I feel myself forgetting my own lessons. Their messengers sit cross legged in the trees passing my voice along with billions more; sheparding us toward it. The plees woft on, hurded with the others to their ears. While all we hear are echoes of our own voices.

Reminding us of what we sound like. Do we starve to our sorrow? Do we find shelter in that cheque, Do we feel parched for our possessions? Did Fyodor play a fickle fancy fiddle or did his riddle make God giggle


We’re So Very Glad to Meet you

When the moon says ‘goodnight’ you will see my hands grasping yours on a sun lit bed. When the earth’s trials count us among the lucky I will hold you in that bitter winter. When our species wide senescence rolls back like a undertow on our fate’s shore, I’ll stand with you on that gloomy beach gazing upon the nuclear winter.
Let’s play cards on the devils doorstep, and drink to our downfall.

Come with me and make your own rules. Call the shots with the moon as your syn-chronic guide, forget the deities that led us astray and contract the worries of the world for another day. All in all we’re all caught in a gracious current that may carry us where we will. Why call shots when we wake worried and wily? Why counter callous actions through wild eyes and crippled lungs? Why worry at all for the exhilaration of a wiry world, when the wires and dire straights could cremate us all in seconds, why crack wise with a consumer disguise?
Butterflies flap there wings to a cosmic time scale and were underwater. Yet drowning we remain manifesting self-fury.
Come with me and see new rules revised. Where do you turn when the world weighs wayward on the horizon? Where else but turn up to cloud-ridden heads and heavy bar top hearts? Watch me hide with the most cautious crooks and cling to life extremophile style.
Where can we turn as the trials do pile, where do miles become empty styles human milestones left no living rivals?
Simply we boast.
I toast simply to the mire that stands before us and the hell we must bust through, but I’ve played cards with a demon or two, they’ll be very happy to meet you.

Well play your words your rules.

🎐 📼

Coins and Credits – Nothing to the Deaded

Aces limited you keep faith in those in your hands, as if the deck is empty.
I am under no requirements to see your laws fit.
I see no agreement reached by coin or credits.
I have no desire for riches pictures of my grandeur or bitches.
You’ve heard about me in scripture but no words can decipher sinister.
You’re best efforts may dodge my effects, but I have nothing to live for and time I could lose.
I’ll wait in the chairs outside your office, I’m sure your secretary will welcome me. I’m humble, you see and I never get angry. I’m very loving as you sleep; invade your thoughts if you make a peep. I’m a cheap date at the right price; I don’t care for your excuses for abuses. Why of course from a born liar you have your uses. I suppose I can fit you in. I have appointment with all sorts, from porters to court lawyers. I don’t discriminate, I’m happy to accommodate and did I say you look great?
‘Do you have a second?’

‘I have a proposition.’
I’m sure you’ll agree, one way, even without your permission. The courts can’t hold me to the promises I’ve made. But I’ll practically pledge you anything.
Just let me in.
Promise me your sin and I won’t turn you in.
give me a ring we’ll organize a time. You can tell me your reasons in rhyme. Sympathetically my lips could sing you justifications some may even fly under the right situations. I’m your guy; whether you’re sky high headed or satin sheets bedded, you said it, bet it will be,
see me when you’re ready, steady and stable.
I’ll listen to your fables, dance upon the tables and sit in on your navel gazes.
But don’t trust them, I have evidence you may be interested in, might quiet that din indeed, on a need to know basis, basically it’s greatest.
But payments up front Aces are expensive trumps. Being blunt I don’t take well to grunts and moans. Pick up the fucking phone! I know when you’re not home. I can tell by your tone.
Glad we could do business. God can’t bless your little heart. You must know in part…

I own you