Tim Barrus New York Times
Every time we turn around to face whatever wind that is coming at us, we hear voices of a predestined fate, laughing at us in a cataclysm of deprivation and corruption. We hear the voices behind that wind, pushing it, always telling us – we don’t matter, we are irrelevant, and our very existence is standing in their way. They snarl at us.
The operant word here is they.
“They” camouflage themselves with a disease of masks where we do not know who “they” are, and by our own masks of apathy that they count on to enable them to get what they want.
Power.
Over us.
It’s free. We don’t show up. They game the system because they can.
We know this: we are not influential, incapacitated, and powerless, usually in a place both real and virtual, usually put in our insignificant place, potentially subhuman, the genocide of demography, and what we are doing about it is trying to survive. Just trying to survive has facilitated the great machine “they” have built that renders us impotent.
We stand up for democracy to be counted, and we get whipped back like dogs.
None of this is new. All of it is historical, yet our writers and our thinkers and our explainers and our editors and our journalists have a vested interest where we are force fed a litany of messages about how we are losing democracy. This time by map.
In order for them to “explain” reality to us, those explanations are filtered through the lens of This Is What Will Happen.
It happened years ago. Listen to the wind.