The world is on a type of fire right now.

The word “tariffs” should be on one of those Las Vegas neon signs that tempt drunks with the words “girls girls girls.”

No matter where I go or what I do, it’s tariffs, tariffs, tariffs. How much they are. What they will impact. How much pain will it cause. What companies are doing or not doing. What could possible be good.

It’s just insane.
It’s also got to be a big distraction for something else. No topic receives this much attention from the left and right without being a strawman for something else.

The tariffs are important. Absolutely. But when all of media covers it for multiple days, I can’t help but wonder why. There’s always something, isn’t there? Something in the wings? Something they don’t want to cover or just gloss over.

Most Americans tend to have the attention span of a drunk albatross and the memory of a malnourished goldfish. But, to our credit, we’re herded like cats. There has to be a constant and continual streaming distraction least we all settle and start going our different ways.

That could lead to thinking, which would be bad, and they don’t want us to think. Trying to piece together a story or overall narrative is * CONSPIRACY. *

The powers that be wouldn’t want that as * CONSPIRACY * (dun, dun, dunnnnnn) is often fact that they’re trying to discredit.

I wish I knew who “they” where. They owe me a dinner, at the very least. A good dinner and a couple of lifetimes. Well, I wouldn’t eat the dinner but I would take the lifetime replacements.

I don’t even need a burnt out Tesla. Just a couple of more lifetime do-overs please. A Ukranian mountain of cash would be accepted as well.

Heck, I’d even save the receipts for them. They’d know exactly how much plastic surgery I’d get.

I guess the real issue is what is real?
— Jason and I watched an After Skool video that put forth the idea that real is being replaced with the hyper-real or fake real. It’s a manufactured real that is defined and controlled by the mysterious ‘them.’

The general population are child-like, thick, mean, and desperate. Although we may not know what’s wrong, we know something is wrong and mental doubt, behavior issues, and phobias are born through doubt, fear, and the consistent attack from social media, toxic environment, and echo chambers.

The more uncomfortable and scary the world becomes, the more we want to unite with those who are the same as us. We’re looking for a family. For friends. For humanity.

But people are afraid. They’re afraid of the label of conspiracy. They’re trying to pull together and work to feed themselves, family, and to have some sort of stunted feeling of independence.

Lifetimes are traded for money so we can be encouraged to keep buying and buying. The economy has to grow. However, it’s the consumer’s problem that climate change and waste are on the upswing.

It’s our fault that the earth is dying but, should we stop buying, that oh so important dopamine hit disappears and we’re not patriotic. Coupled with neuromarketing and FOMO, any type of struggle or even awareness compounds the desperation.

The nightmare is that there isn’t anything that can be done. Children continue to become mysterious sick with adult and new diseases. Indulging in games is tapping into the hyper-realism. Purchases are tracked, predicted, and scheduled.

Any actions that could be taken to relieve stress and ‘coping skills’ are an exceedingly slippery slope. The pleasure replaces the job and, eventually, it becomes the job that must be satisfied. As reality frays around the edges, is uncomfortable, and lonely.

Our actions,,, my actions… may not be my own.

I don’t like where this is going.

Mentally, I’ve been doing so well lately but… this is uncomfortable. So, instead of confronting it, I want to indulge into some sort of pleasure. Some distraction because I don’t have the capability to handle it… unless I take my Prozac.

Does Hope exist?
Faith?
Or is all that a construct as well and we’re just homunculi waiting for the next scroll or bit of information to occupy our empty brains.