A Novella - Sardonic Surveillance

Epilogue: The Great American Sleepwalk

The tragedy of the empire isn't that it hid its crimes, it's the crimes are performed in broad daylight to a packed theater that forgot how to hiss. The clicks on the telephone line, the firebombs over Fallujah, the General holding the deed to the front porch ... it was all logged, filmed, and broadcast in high-definition. But the Amerikans aren't paying attention. They're hypnotized by the blue light of the screens, self medicating on sanitized news cycles, reality television, and entirely content to trade their collective soul for the illusion of safety. 

So the machine won by default rolling onward from the dust of Mesopotamia straight into the neon lit madness of present day. They didn't need to burn the books ... the controllers simply waited for the people to stop reading them. But out here on the fringe, the ink doesn't fade. The file stays open. We hold the binoculars, we keep the logs, and we bear witness to the circus completely awake inside the great national sleepwalk. 

September has always displayed the bluest of skies ...

queen -

hideous -

almost -

paints -

child -

25 years later and our world is hardly safe from terrorists. foreign terrorists are not what America has to worry about these days ... the single most dangerous terrorist of them all is sitting comfortably in America's White Trash House ... yep America's orange adolf pedofuhrer donorrhea trumpf ... acquited of crimes almost as insidious as all those crimes that are attributed to Usama bin Laden ... history will not be very kind to trumpf ... 😐