Hope of Doc

Sometimes I wonder if there’s a worldwide conspiracy intended to make each and every person on the planet as sick as possible, and therefore rendering us dependent upon others for our continued survival. Suppose for a moment that a broken-down dependent person is easier to exploit than a strong, independent one.

We’re convinced that we cannot be good parents, or be upstanding citizens, or have high social status, unless we drive around in big machines which poison the very air we breath. Chemicals of questionable value are put directly in our water supply. We’re SOLD (ie. convinced to buy) personal body products which unnecessarily contain cancer-causing chemicals. Even children’s toys and numerous household items are supposedly toxic. Don’t even get me started on our food supply.

The best part is, when we do get sick, we are not allowed to grow our own medicine. Not to mention, the medicine we are given often has brutal side effects, requiring even more drugs just to avoid death.

Yes, I often wonder if all these terrible corporations are discussing behind closed doors how best to fuck us all up the ass ’till we bleed to death. Then I remember: they’ve each got their own individual reasons for fucking us over one way or another. The fact that they all play off of each other so nicely, accounting for our total destruction, is just a bonus.

I am not without hope. Just pissed off. Bitter. It gets worse around x-mas time. I want to yell and scream at each and every consumer like a raving lunatic. You know, run around Mic Mac Mall, exercising my freedom of speech.

The thing is, for each and every nightmare, there is a happy ending. Awake if need be.