They’d like us to believe…

They’d like us to believe that from one day to the next a bitter crowd in tears swinging between rage and resignation can turn, as if processed, into a cheering pack of joyful retards, that from all the placards praising the Revolution yesterday not even one today remained, that the outraged yelling voices all caught a sudden cold in the middle of Summer, and that Monday’s vociferous nays were muzzled without reprisal after a split second of anti-acclamation.

They’d like us to believe they needed but one night to frack into the occupied minds the transpacific 15 free of inflation and generate a fizzy melody of compliant servility that would be heard as far from Philly as the east is from the sunny west coast, one night for the worst of enemies to become the best of friends, vowing to fuse their forces to fight the irate red dragon with water and fire combined, one night for the white rabbit to really pardon the red queen for stealing its compass and for Her Majesty in turn to absolve the rodent for existing.

They’d like us to believe, but we know better. We witnessed the applause-signs, the smirks on the VIP balcony, the fake smiles. Behind the scenes, we spotted Riefenstahl’s great-grandson unpacking all the units hastily delivered by US.R. & M.M. a few hours before day 1 : the C.U.L.T.-series (female reverend v.6.16, female rabbi 106, made to speak after a vile atheist, as if to disinfect the pulpit), the HappyActivist ™ series (featuring the Jess 1.13, the Dolores 1.86, which conveniently replaced the Berta model, out of order, but also the Michael-Eric v.000, among others, all of which can applaud, lick a rear, jump into the air and say ‘yaaa’, but also growl if necessary), and too many others to mention. So, As soon as we understood, after reading Pilger, that the second sequel might actually be looming, we threw one last glimpse at the freak show behind us, and never looked back as we marched forward towards the end of the desert of thought…

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