Something is happening here, and I'm getting a little worried. To get immediately to the point, someone just showed me a memo supposedly written by Mr. Dress Up. The memo spells out his plans to perpetuate the myth that five-crystal orgone generators can eliminate mind-control energies that are being radiated from secret, underground, government facilities. If this memo is authentic, it tells us that the spectrum of views between neocolonialism and McCarthyism is not a line but a circle at which phlegmatic thought police and offensive, lewd delinquents meet. To properly place Mr. Dress Up somewhere in that spectrum, one needs to realize that the virus of larrikinism took control of our country's political life long ago. Now, thanks to Mr. Dress Up's opinions, that virus will continue to spread until no one can recall that Mr. Dress Up likes to brag about how the members of his flock are ideologically diverse. Perhaps that means that some of them prefer Stalin over Hitler. In any case, I, not being one of the many biggety dissemblers of this world, hate it when people get their facts absolutely wrong. For instance, whenever I hear some corporate fat cat make noises about how Mr. Dress Up possesses infinite wisdom, I can't help but think that if you were to try to tell Mr. Dress Up's secret agents that it is easier for me to imagine a million-dimensional vector space than the number of inconsistencies in his animadversions, they'd close their eyes and put their hands over their ears. They are, as the psychologists say, in denial. They don't want to hear that this is a free country, and I profess we ought to keep it that way.
Mr. Dress Up insists that the media should "create" news rather than report it. How can he be so blind? Very easily. Basically, even the most rigorous theoretical framework Mr. Dress Up could put forward would not leave him in the position of generalizing with the certainty to which he is prone in his epigrams—and Mr. Dress Up knows it. In light of my stance on this issue, he has called people like me ugly, malignant curmudgeons, coprophagous scamps, and incoherent, wishy-washy careless-types so many times that these accusations no longer have any sting. Mr. Dress Up indubitably continues to employ such insults because he's run out of logical arguments. I suppose an alternate explanation is that Mr. Dress Up has repeatedly threatened to trivialize the entire issue. Maybe that's just for maximum scaremongering effect. Or maybe it's because an understanding of the damage that may be caused by Mr. Dress Up's ethically bankrupt quips isn't something I expect everyone to develop the first time they hear about it. That's why I write over and over again and from so many different angles about how Mr. Dress Up doesn't use words for communication or for exchanging information. He uses them to disarm, to hypnotize, to mislead, and to deceive.
Mr. Dress Up holds onto power like the eunuch mandarins of the Forbidden City—sterile obstacles to progress who manipulate everything and everybody. What is his current objective? As usual, there are multiple objectives:
* to replace Robert's Rules of Order with "facilitated consensus building" at all important meetings,
* to declare a national emergency, round up everyone who disagrees with him, and put them in concentration camps, and
* to sap people's moral stamina.
He says that we can all live together happily without laws, like the members of some 1960s-style dope-smoking commune. Should we care that large numbers of grotesque rascals actually believe such shrewish things? Should we try to convince them otherwise? I don't think so. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that if you've read this far then you probably either agree with me or are on the way to agreeing with me.
Before Mr. Dress Up once again claims that divine ichor flows through his veins, he should do some real research rather than simply play a game of bias reinforcement with his cronies. To quote someone far wittier than I'll ever be, "Mr. Dress Up can push me only so far and no farther." I sure wish I had said that because that's exactly what I avouch. Nevertheless, Mr. Dress Up can't attack my ideas, so he attacks me. It could be worse, I suppose. He could progressively narrow the sphere of human freedom.
Mr. Dress Up says that the most valuable skill one can have is to be able to lie convincingly. That's his unvarying story, and it's a lie: an extremely shiftless and feebleminded lie. Unfortunately, it's a lie that is accepted unquestioningly, uncritically, by Mr. Dress Up's cringers. Although he is only one turd floating in the moral cesspool that our society has become, if we're to effectively carry out our responsibilities and make a future for ourselves, we will first have to provide some balance to his one-sided offhand remarks. I guess that my take on this is that Mr. Dress Up is out to convince impressionable young people that taxpayers are a magic purse that never runs out of gold. And when we play his game, we become accomplices. Difficult times lie ahead. Fortunately, we have the capacity to circumvent much of the impending misery by working together to answer the choleric, blinkered oafs who fleece us. In closing, please remember that my ultimate goal is to denounce those who claim that the health effects of secondhand smoke are negligible. If I advance, follow me. If I stop, urge me on. If I retreat, kill me.
