Friday, 3 July 2009

Get the Invisible, Bulletproof Shower Curtains ready . PSYCHOS are about!!!!

In a rich and varied society there is plenty of room to stick the psychopaths out of the way where they can do minimal damage to the social and moral fabric of the population.

Some may say that these societies are less developed than our own. Certainly for the corporation this is true, for us punters I’d suggest not.

Modern society has become a monoculture with very few places left to sideline these freaks, if any. Indeed the opposite is true since they’ve now grabbed the levers of power and will sideline anyone not in the same group think, ALTER, MKUltra program. Think SOVIET, think NAZI. Think Oligarchy.

What do we social Darwinian losers get?

Well the modern psychopath by nature cannot stand to be ignored so they will all gravitate into the limelight. Go on just try it. Try ignoring a psychopath. They hate it. They loath the fact that your life can be complete and that you can be happy without them having any influence on your existence. Jealous of your good fortune they’ll set about fucking you over anyway, anyhow just so you’re denormalised. So before you know it you’ll get a shiv in the back for resisting. Then the psycho will be happy again.

Where is the most limelight to be had?

Well the answer to that question is answered by that to a second question.

Who gets invited to Bilderberg?

Note the word invite. That’s the key. The word invite massages, strokes, primps, flatters and laps the psychopath’s ego as they gaze at their magnificent bodies in their autoerotic mental mirror. I’ll bet when the annual invite thrusts through the letterbox and bursts onto the doormat of the invitees there is a collective outpouring and groaning throughout the world as foaming gash and emptied bags hit the deck.

Come on just look at the roll call of attendees who’ve graced our parliament and tell me I’m wrong.

So what does all this soiled underwear mean for the honest punter then?

Well serfdom.

If a certain well known shifter of stuff, whom we ceremonially honour each week, should get their hands on a nationalised piggy bank, then ritually one more step is taken to put us serfs in a mining town a la 19th century. It’ll be like living near a Hudson Bay Co trading post, only we’ve got no beaver.

Heads up.