PAIN INTO PROFIT

There are few things that I find more pathetic than an idiot on his knees in prayer when he should be on his feet in action. I am less harsh in my judgments of those who pray when there is truly nothing else that they can do. I have been in numerous tragic situations and I know as well as most that wishing or praying can alleviate feelings of abject hopelessness and helplessness. To pray for a miracle at a loved ones deathbed is the sincere act of a helpless person doing what little they can to improve the situation—to pray at the edge of your own bed that you will somehow get yours bills paid when you should be out looking for a way to hustle up some quick cash is the selfish act of a lazy degenerate who cannot find the strength to define themselves as anything but a victim.

            The emotional weaklings think that scars are ugly so instead they pick at their wounds constantly, making sure that they remain fresh and bloody so that they can invoke the sympathy of those who use sympathy as a means to control. We are a coddled culture that lets its touchy-feely therapist archetype tools move us about like perpetually bleeding and weeping pawns. Television commercials bear it out like nothing else. Are you sad? Try this drug! Are you not getting enough pussy? Drink this beer. Wear this body spray. Are you not cool? Try this soda. Wear these jeans. Shop at this store.

            Orwell was wrong. It’s not big brother, it’s big mother. She’ll put a band-aid on your bullet wounds and then overcharge you for it.

Meanwhile, the outcasts tote socialism or libertarianism or some other ism as a solution to all that ails us, but until we escape the victim psychology, wherein corporations turn our pain into profit by exploiting our grief, fear and insecurity, there is not hope for us and we don’t deserve hope as long as we’re too stupid to see through the game that they are playing.