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Wednesday, November 19, 2014

I Have Seen the Future - A Letter from Dr. Tarrec


I have received another letter from my friend, Dr. Tarrec:

Dear Jef, (I do see your point; the second “f” is superfluous.)

I have seen the future and it is a world balanced between trust and paranoid anxiety, a new rationality and heaps of cash thrown carelessly to the munitions makers and arms dealers lined up alongside the parade route.  What makes you think that you’re a real lover?  Have you formally joined a humanist society?  I don’t think so. It’s time for money.  It’s time for free money.  It’s time for increased sales projections during the holiday season.  And time for toxic gas.  Bet you weren’t expecting that…

The cultural sewers are full of explosions and thick viscera.  The Cathedral is closed.  You have lived a long time, and I somewhat longer.  Climb the stairs, if you can.  There are a great many of them.  Speak out.  Don’t let Dobson, Schlafly, Limbaugh, and North do it for you. Our egomania and insensitive temperament are writ large – on a national scale.  The autonomic innervation of the abdominal viscera is lost.  The battle for the mind is over.

Michael Faraday never had a formal education, so what is your excuse?  Have your lungs been ripped out?  Has a tornado blown through the junkyard of your mind? Your polity is disordered chaos.  Your gargoyles are torn loose and dropped to the concrete streets below.  You are only hanging on by your fingertips. 

It should be obvious why we fear the United Nations. The law is clear and precise. Equality is the ideal, but not for everyone – only those we feel worthy to receive it.  And do you really know what’s going on in Washington?  Have you listened to the fair and balanced friends?  They have given us a signal, but have we acknowledged it? 

It doesn’t have to be a perfect world, but it should be one in which America is not under a totalitarian one world state – America should be presiding over that hegemony.  And it should be one in which the ganglion of the lumbar sympathetic trunk are irregularly fused. There is no prosperity here.  This land is burnt over, charred, and exhausted – the fulfillment of profits over prophets. But swear again, and louder, that it’s not your fault.  Always the other guy.  Again and again until someone dies.

With warmest regards for you and yours,
Dr. P. L. Tarrec



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