Window Garden
Death and carnage ravaging across the globe. Empires on the brink of war competing for power and dwindling resources. The natural world brought closer to total annihilation by each day that goes by.
Outside the ejit zombies on the daily march of progress travel back and forward to their workstations keeping the whole wretched thing intact and running like a well oiled machine. Wearing their chains proudly like a badge of honor. The brain deads loving it.
The preachers of freedom and a higher morality speak their dribble, pontificating over a Proletarian paradise they don't really want. Their only listeners are their cliques and cults.
Fuck false prophets and sleeveens who claim to possess the ultimate truth. Be your own prophet, follow no one's road but the one created by yourself. Although sometimes lonely, you will meet other fellow travellers on the journey of self-liberation. Better having one, two, three, four accomplices than having an army of snakes, manipulators, and cowardly backstabbers who haven't the brains or the courage to go their own way.
Preachers and followers of dogmas are tyrants in wait, ready to strike against anyone who attempts to leave the one-dimensional route to new commanders, bosses, and prisons; these same frauds of liberation who comedically proclaim their sacred scriptures a science, their boring ass theories wouldn't even be useful as toilet paper; they'd cut the hole off ya! These sycophants offer nothing but continued misery.
Industrial civilisations' carnage continues on, day after day, vigorously. But still, little pockets of resistance and ownness blossom and creativity blooms among the mess and debris.
You lose, only if you give in.