Tomorrow We Dance To Freedom






The Complacent Acceptors - VII

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Today is rant till you drop day or is it now called "Rant a lot Day". Well whatever the new improved designation Jim was going to take full advantage of this wonderful stress reliever. To know that our enlightened leaders allow us just one day a year to go outside and scream at the top of our lungs is truly an act of decency. Constant adherence to falsehoods perpetrated to uphold and instill productivity in every working slave tends to build up tension that must be expelled at some point or another. Being lied to on a continual basis by every elite with a stake in a system that uses human beings like chattel either in their home countries or shipped around the world in work gangs tends to grind on a person's nerves over time even a well programmed serf like Jim.

On this specially designated day it's not uncommon to hear blood-curdling screams coming from all directions throughout the night right up until 12 midnight. No one is going to miss this time for psychological cleansing of all the pent up inequities that make survival in an ever deteriorating world that much more impossible. With a whole cadre of propagandist's employed on a 24-hour basis churning out endless supplies of fabricated stories centering upon the infallibility of the Ultra-Capitalist economic system your never quite sure how long your screams will last on this precious day.

Just some of the more recent stories to come out of "Propaganda Central" that everyone has recently begun latching a hold of are: "we bought to many material things", "we were all to blame for our endless orgy of spending", "protectionism is bad especially when businesses are inhibited from searching for ever cheaper labor resources", "banks caused all evil that ever befell the global economy", "save the banks and you save the economy", "all you need is an ever declining real wage because you don't need to buy things like the business masters" - on goes the spin.

Truth is no longer necessary because for the past several decades "molded truth"; that crusty over baked illusion created by the media machine has mightily assisted the political, business, and intelligentsia elites to increase their wealth even though less remained for them to steal. Their most effective weapon at deterring the underground freedom fighters is to overwhelm their ability to counter the mind-altering dung that is excreted from the unholy orifices of the gorged business beast. By proliferating every radio, net, cable channel, newspaper, and an endless string of other media sources with this expertly crafted misinformation the smattering of truth that does get out from the underground is lost in the worm eaten corpse of society.

Driving down city streets is much less depressing than in the early days of the Depression because back then when you saw paint peeling from homes, pot-holed lunar asphalted roads, and all the other indications of rampant penury you crawled back into your home - a hole occupied by others like you - the dispossessed.

Thanks to the creative genius of those at "Propaganda Central" we are all able to withstand ever more intense levels of decay with a broad smile for we now realize that in our lust for perfection we'd applied far too much paint and asphalt to our homes and roads than was necessary. All this is wasteful living only sensible if you're among the special elites that live behind gated communities in their immaculate palaces. There are only enough resources in the world to drain from the income swamp to support our lord's endless pleasure farms. Jim realized now that it was good to know ones place in the scheme of things.

Yesterday one of Jim's fellow working slaves asked why his unit was being terminated in favor of an ever-cheaper labor gang in India. What was shocking to Jim was that this 'slaver' was tattooed with a number indicating he was from an inferior stock. The question hung there in the air for an untold number of minutes before he was finally whisked away to the extermination room. It just goes to show you there are always folks who ask impertinent questions of our business masters. They should realize our masters and their faithful servants don't like to have truth thrust in their faces especially when they feel that their omnipotence is being threatened.

Not much changes on a day in day out basis. Jim worked harder, receiving less pay, going home to collapse on his vermin soiled space on the floor of a room he shared with others. Not even the cat was interested in scurrying after the rampaging rats that swarmed over this his rented space in a room - a corporate barrack.

Tomorrow Jim and a few of others were going to go on a night scavenge at an old shop in the dead mall to see if they might break through the rusty bolt lock that others had been sawing on for more than a week. The story rapidly making its way through the barracks was that behind this stockroom door was a supply of foodstuffs that was being horded by the manager who was shot by a mob when the National Guard was called in to stop looting after the "Big Collapse" a few months ago. All the old timers kept telling Jim that things would get better but after waiting for just more steamy stories from "The Rulers" it seemed even the old timers believed in hope when only action would suffice.