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Reply #31 kyosan's post
Ain't it sad?|
What a mess! The monster has control of every process. Greed, power and vice have displaced honest virtues in every mechanism and gear of the big giant soul-crunching machine of the power brokers for everyday men and women. It churns out a product of lust and disgust, creating a conditional disease devoid of love and honor. We are fed the toxic waste of its gnarled lubricants, leaving us a restricted diet of despair, uncertainty and fear.
When the creative blessing of the internet came along, there was a glimmer of hope; but as time marches on, the monster has even and already wrapped its mechanical soul-less lips around it. Now the schemers and planners want a new internet, a faster internet and a ball and chain around the neck, legs and feet of every subscriber -- a monthly charge to access the electronic universe made available from honest engineering and the gifts of earth and fusion. It is not enough their minions spam the information available with garbage but have utilized their might to track, sneak and trash anything they don't want served-up.
A change alright, the printed word is as good as dead, so is the radio and soon enough television broadcast across the air ... and now the cable companies are crying wee wee wee all the way home. -- Why pay 80 bucks a month for cable or satellite television and radio when you can find greater entertainment on the internet? The next most essential comfort to shelter, food, gas, water and electricity is the money paid in subscription for your 'service' -- a cheap modem, some ancient wiring and a big old clunky server. The cost is to sign the paper full of nonsense created through a passel of paper contracts derived from shark-toothed, drooling, big corporate wise-guy attorneys. You sign your soul to the ever-lastin' month by month enslavement on a year-long basis, over and over again. The monster has its foot on our necks and we are pinned to the ground! The same old milling grind that has been grinding the same kind of gruel already in every other 'service' to the slaves to its lust, whose ugly corporate monster pulls and pushes the blind and forlorn around every day and every damned month, best made-up with year-long servitudes signed in invisible blood.
Yes, where is the place where voices can express a call for immediate release from the monster?