In a time when so much truth had become sedition, ubiquitous digital-drugs masked permanent delay as perpetual immediacy, for controllers to train addicts in adjusting aims to accord with whatever seedless bread and silicone circus best seasoned the beasts for the feasts of the cultural-cannibal elites.
“Life passes by in the blink of an eye,” droned the spectacularly seductive theme of some glittery digital-drugs. “Life is short — blink and you’ll miss it!,” warned others. All stampeding in and out of the wholly peripheral attention of wide-eyed, sleep-deprived hosts of the grimly grinning, glutted, gloating, petty, preening, panting political parasites who had perfected proliferation of slaves’ waking sleep, in the form of a sociological big, long blink.
Throughout this speck of a speck in the sands of time, the parasites leveraged their slouching, self-slaved meat-shields to wage fierce, fleeting wars throughout vast, vanishing terrains littered with the countless bumbling, stumbling meat-shields, all of which, by then, never more than merely grunted whenever enlistment into parasites’ duels impeded the meat from its preferred impediments, grunting louder when impeded while starving in one way or another, and finally grunting a gasp alike a lazy squeal while, for the expedience of one cultural-cannibal elite or another, being exterminated.