Let's get real. Please. Shall we? There is, assuredly, no such entity as security. Especially not of the social degree. Nine digits do not mean anything. Except, perhaps, that you are a piece of property- not a woman, a man, or an in-between; certainly no such thing as a human being!
Ach, believe? How does one believe in reprieve in such an existence, my friend, what exactly can we believe in when the majority of the populous spend their lives as objects for rent- ceasing to live for 40 hours a week in order to receive a paycheck at the expense of absent dignity. In the midst of creaky externally imposed ideologies.
And, moreover, the elderly are left to eat cat food, to freeze in sober somber solitude without any heat in their tiny rooms while these so called "criminals" are residing (if one could be so naive as to dub it "residing") in penitentiaries. Surely, if the elderly could be of necessity then we would lock them up in something of a prison for "free." Yet all the old fogeys seem capable of doing is farting, sleeping, and complaining about everything- there is no need for any more of such futility in this "society." There is no industry in the elderly. So, alas, let them die cold hungry and alone (not owning any property, not even knowing how to dial a telephone or raise the volume on a TV).
But wait, but wait, but at once- wait!
Everything said before is only for the poor eyesores. In the unlikely, and most lucky, event that the geriatrics are rich then we will kiss their feet! We will insert their false teeth with our ungloved hands, we will feign love and bow to their demands, we will put them in buildings with nurses dressed in brightly coloured ornamental yet practical garbs, we will feed them meals of gluttony that they will hardly eat (while little skinny babies go hungry at the bottom end of the pyramid), we will place medicines on their tongues and sing as they choke the pills back past those dry lips, through the choked passage of throat, and down that gullet of a saggy-skinned neck!
Yes. For there is definitely money in this.
Ach, believe? How does one believe in reprieve in such an existence, my friend, what exactly can we believe in when the majority of the populous spend their lives as objects for rent- ceasing to live for 40 hours a week in order to receive a paycheck at the expense of absent dignity. In the midst of creaky externally imposed ideologies.
And, moreover, the elderly are left to eat cat food, to freeze in sober somber solitude without any heat in their tiny rooms while these so called "criminals" are residing (if one could be so naive as to dub it "residing") in penitentiaries. Surely, if the elderly could be of necessity then we would lock them up in something of a prison for "free." Yet all the old fogeys seem capable of doing is farting, sleeping, and complaining about everything- there is no need for any more of such futility in this "society." There is no industry in the elderly. So, alas, let them die cold hungry and alone (not owning any property, not even knowing how to dial a telephone or raise the volume on a TV).
But wait, but wait, but at once- wait!
Everything said before is only for the poor eyesores. In the unlikely, and most lucky, event that the geriatrics are rich then we will kiss their feet! We will insert their false teeth with our ungloved hands, we will feign love and bow to their demands, we will put them in buildings with nurses dressed in brightly coloured ornamental yet practical garbs, we will feed them meals of gluttony that they will hardly eat (while little skinny babies go hungry at the bottom end of the pyramid), we will place medicines on their tongues and sing as they choke the pills back past those dry lips, through the choked passage of throat, and down that gullet of a saggy-skinned neck!
Yes. For there is definitely money in this.
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