But despite the stench of putrefaction in our lungs that comes from a colossal body in its terminal arc, the Great Media Harlot, our gold-plated looking glass to the world, sees, hears and speaks no evil of those she calls her own. Having in her youth been renowned for her virtue, her fading modesty drew attention as she was found consorting in the company of riff-raff in indecent circumstances and at odd hours. But now that the bloom is off the rose, her wantonness for her favorites is for all to see as she cocks her heels behind her ears to her own shame without bothering any longer to pull the drapes. While still of a mind to scream at the top of her lungs at every misstep committed by her ideological rivals, her utility now lies in her affectation of silence as hard and ancient structures lie crumbling about her feet. Any duty she once felt to justice has been supplanted by reckless love: not the love that comes from contemplating the beautiful and the just, but the helpless debased sort that older women feel: having thrown their evaporating charms at young rogues leading ultimately to no happy end.
Despite what we can discern happening about us vibrating in the marrow of our bones, those on the receiving end of our Great Knave's material largesse have taken up the Media Harlot's carefully groomed mantra: a subtle variation of Emile Coue's psychological auto-suggestion that: "Everyday and in every way, things are getting better and better." Having imbibed these imbecilic political "Laws of Attraction," the faithful have learned that every negative thought can be checked and countered by a smiling and trim happy-go-lucky young face on the tube selling us on the lie that the American Dream is alive and well under Obama."
Read more: Articles: The Engineer and the Harlot
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Off to work I go, so I can transport the loaves of bread that once upon a time cost you about $1.50, now reach prices of $2.50 or higher.....Eat up....