I’ve lived a medium-length life, but it’s been highly varied. As a musician, I met and befriended many different kids of people… or so I thought.
I had a sad realization watching my social media feeds (other than twitter) fill up black squares, or perhaps more of a recognition of what I already knew:
The truth is, almost everyone I have known as an adult is a member of, or is highly submissive to, that psychic cadre we call the death cult. The further I get from it, and the closer I get to real people – whether they are spiritual or not – the more intolerable the death cult becomes.
The ritual of “blackout” posting I found offensive, not just because it accomplishes literally nothing, but also because it was the digital version of public self-flagelation.
No sooner than it began, it doubled, as the legions of suburban whites terrified (rightfully so) to head down to a “protest” (frenzied looting) were soon notified that their posting was disrupting “vital flow of information” for the “Black lives matter” movement by crowding the hashtag.
Nobody wants to watch somebody they care about – or once knew – engaging in public self-debasement for the benefit of those who hate them. It’s disturbing, like watching a family member chant ritual chants to demons, which is quite close to what it actually is. Recieving smarmy comments from people I once knew for refusing to join in is even worse.
That return to reality that the black squares impressed upon me was that if I had unfollowed/blocked everybody who engaged in the ritual, I would have almost no “friends” left.
But are they my friends?
If you hate me and want me dead, are you my friend? I don’t think so.
I reap what I sow. Spending my youth among the masses of death cultists, though the experienced hardened me, has left me with few real friends or allies. Arts departments are like seminaries, but to an unforgiving anti-god, so it should be expected that almost everyone I met there has turned out to be insane. I’d be healthier as a plumber, if perhaps a bit less robust.
At certain point you have to ask yourself – when do people stop being a neurtral memory and become a liability?
At a certain point, they are. If the morality is twisted enough, they will act against their “friend” – because I am not their friend. Not really. Social media has created an imaginary community that isn’t real – it’s a false social network, and it imposes false pressure on people.
Remember that leftists were advocating calling CPS on Trump supporters? They may be total cowards reduced to Pharisee-like public acts of virtue-signaling, but it doesn’t require much bravery to pick up a phone and call the government to do you work for you. It makes me think.
The Death Cult doesn’t play by rules. Even the public sacrifices do not bring forgiveness. The cult is also made up of people.
This is part of why I hate Facebook. It’s not just the dystopian nature of the giant that hijacks people’s dopamine systems, turning them into npcs, it’s the fact that my feed is full of embarassing ugliness.
Thanks for stopping by. God bless you.