Misery used to cry silent tears, but now it is vocal because les misérables have been told they have been mistreated. Trouble is, words are inexorably propagandized. They are half lies and manipulation. Misery loves company, so protest groups arise, and the concept of mistreatment grows like a cancer similar to the cancer of hegemony employed by the titans. In fact, the crying and screaming become a game perfected long ago by two-year-old boys to extract ever greater and permanent benefits. Meanwhile, strong and silent is then given up as a flawed strategy. It turns us into Camus’ outsider and makes us a target. But who does the flexible identity and shapeshifting and rewriteable DNA benefit? Ourselves? Not likely. The game of life is most fun/fruitful when played with a strong identity and a clear purpose. We might convince our fellow proles to look in the mirror to fix the world, but we will never talk the titans into therapy, so where does that leave us?
Where is the solution to be found? What motivates us? What gets us out of bed in the morning? . . . to be continued
