Whenever I go to a supermarket and look for washing powder, I am influenced by advertising, even if I think I’m not. I’m intelligent, I know when this ad thing kicks in, I can recognise the effects. Some of the time. Maybe?
No, not really. You and I, good fellow Puffins, kid ourselves.
You look at a shelf of products in all their various “buy me as though your life and social stigma and possibly your loan approval rate depends on it” livery and your brain is immediately on high-sucrose dependency and flashing:
“Oooh, nice bold colours…, eyes going – ah, would you look at that, oooh that’s got Green credentials – tick muh boxes to muh Islington GrünFreunden, ah, I remember that one from the telly with the blonde bird with massive norks, it must be good, cleaned a lot of things, including my sticky desk, ah yes, that one with the nice little jingle…”
The advertising worked. Whether you are a green warrior happy to pay for an expensive bottle of funny smelling water that won’t clean your clothes but did it to kick Big Corporate Capitalism in the head [you brainless fucktards], yah, or whether you love the jingly-jangly ohrwurm AdMusik of the best-selling “I’m Lovin’ It” brand that’s now going around your head, …
You are still slaved to The System.
For Matrix Reloaded fans, Neo pondering upon a choice, takes the unfavourable left door, even though the Architect predicts and promotes the right door, because humans operate on choices, despite it giving the illusion of them having the control and in fact, it may not. Humans will readily accept the consequences of their choices, rather than the consequences imposed upon them.
We are a product of what we consume. It’s one of the many amazing features of Homo Simians, primarily due to the manifestation of your DNA. Everything. Apart from the psychopaths. That’s an outlier not really for discussion in this post. Which often throws the beginner religious types off-course with the “everyone knows right from wrong” paradigm. That’s for another day and I hope some of my GP friends will provide a wondrous discourse on another thread for another day.
Anyway, as I said, you may be aware, but you are most certainly, in a Derren Brown-esque sort of mother of all Persuasions, still influenced by what you see, read and hear. And smell.
You can’t escape it. It is, as Lord Vader once decried: “Your destiny”.
So, where’s this post heading? I don’t know. As I’m typing it, I had an idea and then it simply went away again. Damn this midday dogs, beer and sun.
Ah yes, The Media. The Influence. The Narrative ™.
All people do, because they have busy lives, well some of them at least, is come back from work, want a “catchup” on WorldEvents™ so they can feel informed, satiated, so as not to lose that common man kudos near The Office water dispenser chitchat thang, via The British Broadcasting Corporation, our so much beloved broadcaster. Or, Sky. Same thing, different payment terms and conditions.
BBC: “The Organ of Propaganda!”, as Ms Geeks would shout, violently and with a first birth-like, staccato projection of enraged phlegm at the TV while making a cup of tea for both of us. I don’t like her tea, to be honest.
It’s that thing in life, friends that you have grown up with, acquaintances you’ve shared years of work with, common goals, jokes, shared meals, a bit of naked dancing and touching, and then suddenly the Schism of Brexit arrives and then the mother-of-all Manifestation of Biblical Revelations is upon us.
And how those friends took a step to the right and did the pelvic thrust in your face to your libertarian feelz and to the outrageous, unthinkable way you voted, you absolute Nazis.
Jeez. I’ve seen websites involving fellow contractors disintegrate before my very own eyes. I’ve seen attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those websites will be lost in time, like tears in rain, after the Great Reckoning.
I think it’s really time to venture out and unplug those that need to and can be unplugged.
When I’ve seen fellow Puffins talk about war, I privately scoffed thinking, nah, a bit over the top. Now, for the very first time, I’m thinking, they could be right. This is a war. Not like the stuff depicted in our childhood like the amiable Peter Flint Warlord magazine, not the black and white “War Films”, this is a serious, ideological, Civil Cultural War.
What it eventually deteriorates into, I don’t know, but there’s a divide amongst us. Not just with politicians, but with our friends, families, co-workers. Everyone.
It’s the divide of Cultures. Of how we perceive our Media and what groupthink-changing influence it has and had on our society. How we pay for it. Should we be forced to pay for one dominant monopoly that, thanks to the internet age, has shown it to be a tool of the Globalists and their wanton propaganda, whether we consume its products or not?
The traditional Media’s control and influence is weakening – Trump’s Twitter and Rally maelstrom is an example of that. But for the many, my elderly parents for instance, still perceive The Media to be The True Word of Events. Nothing that I say or do will change that. As a former Process Engineer, I could not persuade my parents wasting money on putting solar panels on their roof, nor could I state without affirmation from them that renewables were an expensive folly. As an IT guy, I could not persuade my parents from buying an HP laptop because it was overpriced and substandard and they could have got cheaper and better, but they still bought it, convinced by the “knowledgeable chap in the pristine suit”. I couldn’t convince them of Brexit, because they thought Remain was good for their grandkids, because the TV people told them so. And the TV people don’t lie, do they?
Do they?
Yet my BIL worked as a senior accountant in a large corporate and whatever he said was like The Spoken Word of God to our family. Figure that one out. Maybe I should wear a white coat and hold a clipboard whenever I speak to my folks to give advice when they have a sore throat.
But that’s the thing. We are conditioned to believe unquestionably about any source of information from an accepted authority figure. Whether it be a “Doctor” in the family, a senior “Professional” working for a large corporation, from the BBC, Sky, the Mail, the Grauniad newspaper.
We are conditioned to believe unquestionably about these sources of so called fact. At least in my old science courses at college they taught us to be sceptical and challenge everything. I don’t think they would do that nowadays.
And herein lies the problem with this transition from old MSM top down, one-way flow of approved information and the new peer-to-peer unfiltered paradigm of information sharing: some won’t unplug from the Matrix and no amount of persuasion will make them do it, they will simply refuse to accept another reality. However, there are a growing, yawning awakening of folk, from across all generations, that are slowly becoming unplugged and #awoke.
I think we’re winning. Slowly, but surely. But at what price to the accelerated plan?
So, what can we do Puffins? Well, one way is to cancel your £150.50 direct debit to TV Licensing. That is just about your best way of making an immediate impact, apart from going to FLA and Tommy Robinson rallies and showing your support.
Just think about how much you would buy instead? And you are also doing your bit. And in another article, I’ll tell you how much bullshit and unnecessary fearmongering there is in the propaganda that orders you, compels you, on the so called fake (and it is fake) threat of jail, for you to keep on paying that tax, whether you need to or not.
In summary: if you knew how little power they had, you would have stopped paying years ago.
Here are few previous articles to whet your appetite – you do it, and then show your friends and family how to do it without the lying manufactured fear of prosecution:
BBC – It’s The Unique Way I’ve Removed Your Funding, Part One
BBC – It’s The Unique Way I’ve Removed Your Funding, Part Two
BBC – It’s The Unique Way I’ve Removed Your Funding, Part Three
© Beware of Geeks bearing GIFs 2018
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