Nobody in congress or the media is willing to push the issue. The deep state is too big too fail, too corrupt to be exposed and too big to disappear.

The game goes on, elections continue to be corrupted and the citizenry continues to remain in a perpetual coma of willful ignorance.

God help those who refuse to question or use logic. I guess the drone generation has won, existing in a permanent daze while staring down at a cell phone screen and having your every word, breath and action monitored/censored by the most evil and vile people on the earth is what every US soldier paid the ultimate price for ?

Selective reporting, selective justice and a trial by a puppet media connected at the hip to the deep state rules the day.

I have read numbers of your writings used to illustrate “limited hangout”. This is not a good example. A better title would have been,

“How stupid do you need to be to “believe” obvious codswallop?”

The gaping contradictions on information flows over Iraq are legendary. “Germ warfare”. Even Pasteur recant the nonsense that is “germ theory” on his deathbed. Chemical weapons are a whole ‘nother discussion, of course.

Best
OT

But there is a story behind even that. A story about fear. A fear that shakes the system to its core, something that was never felt by those leading. 

Disconcertment, and a dismay how when you are working on a story, trying to find your way through it — treading along a country road, as you would say, seeing the bits and pieces of machinery and scorched nuts and bolts of a war up ahead and you are led into a fracas. The noise level, the mounting wreckage starts to accumulate under your feet, your tripping over the carnage… You take a side road to try and avoid the shit storm that appears to be forming, up ahead of you — when your trying to avoid facing it straight on — nothing is solved that way, so better to come at from an angle, from a different POV, than the agreed upon milieu…the side street leads you through to a different sort of thing, a quieter thought provoking allow an unfolding of that story, not relating to what you are avoiding in the first place by coming this way. And besides, its your way, its individual…

It becomes quiet and now you’re looking at evidence from a different crime, a totally different place and you are behind the curtain of another melee of cultural significance. You have stripped a way a layer by coming this way…

Relating to what you have avoided, but diametrically opposed to what ‘you’ believed in the first place. and its undoing everthing that you have said up to this point.

Your finding out the truth to something you yourself claimed was not true, was lie, was an outright despicable dirty rotten lie, told by liars…but it wasn’t, a lie, why?

Because most of the bastards telling the stories, are reporting from that limited hang-out. And that the story tellers are nihilistic whores, working for the highest money. They have no allegiance, but their own narcisism, no pride in nationality. Skimming over the top, for one reason or another; they know the perpetrators; they are bought off scumbags; or what is ultimately fascinating to me, a new model of the reality manufacturing machine has been rolled out and the power of this new device to take old methods and meld them with an old grievances, produces a new a never seen versions of this fucked up reality.

I wonder sometimes if, we are just going around in circles, as each new generation falls into the same traps, but different snares. It is the same stories over and over again, we might as well be talking about Xerxe’s tromp through the Hellespont, instead of the Azov sea.

Sometimes, in important stories, every dirty detail, might as you say, have to be told. The whole mess, laid out on the clean and uncontaminated, stainless steel table, like parts from some putrid autopsy. But then again, you are faced with the dilemma that in knowing that truth, the story, might pull down a complete government, a complete civilization…it might throw the whole thing into endless chaos, forever…

What if you strike a match, and start the end…

I fear the mindless mob, that glub glob of metered noise, more than the government. To me the mob is more dangerous than the government. The mob is an unpredictable lot, they are brought to frenzy by the sound of the guillotine, witch burning, and the gibbet, and I have experienced enough of those. They are always out for whats in it for them…one can get to point of believing in a cull.

Real writers are of more value, than that copy scribbled out every day. There a value beneath the surface all that — the writers inflections, the actual story telling, sometimes telling a lie can show up something else that is difficult; it’s not outright in words on the page…its the way he uses words. The something of his developed character, his integrity. His belief in himself, his belief in a naturally ordering world.

I find not much of what I read, is, real in any sense; and I mean that, in that, it is put together in an offhand way, weaponized words and phrases sit like soldiers on parapets guarding a hollow interior — it’s about what they feel, or would like to feel, as they virtue signal out a pumped up headline, rather than what is fact…most of this I find, discloses the liar that I could be, unknowingly sometimes have been. I should be careful with that term ‘what is’, it can lead to its own set of problems.

Reality is a layered game.