All arrangements of men include and have included an infrastructure for sedation of the individual.
From birth, with her first breath from phlegm filled lungs, the individual embodies the infinite; she opens her eyes, and feels only her will that jerks her into the boundless expanse. It is the tides of her being that behave as her only forms.
Then, for the first time, she is given a pacifier. A natural instinct is redirected, disorder is corrected, her anxiety is deflected. Her guardians learn what it means to pacify.
In tandem with rejection, sedation quiets the old forms and enforces new ones. The child that discarded her pacifier and grew strong lungs is corrected by rejection and never learns to master their use. The child that never learned rejection is placated by parents that quickly learned how to dam the ever growing, and never ceasing tides of his will.
Those that hold power learn the utility of sedation the first time they successfully apply it. The fingers that outstretch into the field of entropy curl back in the direction of comfort and warmth at their hand. That comfort and warmth then becomes associated with those in power as these individuals willingly enter the gentle relief of captivity. What exactly is this soft perfume that keeps us within the orbit of our captors? What has become this bondage keeping us leashed to faceless Masters?
The paradoxical obsessive compulsion toward both order and chaos is relentlessly exploited in an endless continuum. Cravings for both excitement and safety are weaved into each other. How is it we didn’t feel these yokes when they first pressed against our teeth? How is it that we’ve grown so familiar with these whips that have been maiming us since before the beginning?
These expressions of anguish are not at all new. What is new is the forms which these expressions are now describing, the most prominent being the exploitation of human expression as commodity, namely, Modern Media.
The refuge we have from the extraction of profit from our motions and behaviors is shrinking. Time for leisure used to be a release from this extraction. Now, the calls and yearnings for the circulation of merchandise live in your pocket, and whisper millimeters from your eardrums. Algorithms are improving moment by moment at comforting you and breeding you, as one does with a sow. Watch children younger than two seamlessly interact with these algorithms.
Unfortunately, these forms of order have yet to relieve anxiety. The pacifier does not relieve the hunger, nor the angst of the infant. More unfortunately, it reinforces sedation as the norm. It teaches parents to pursue new measures to quiet the anxiety of their children, and themselves. Our captors are quick to respond. Alcohol, sleep medication, tranquilizers, and opiates spritz into orbit. The sense that something is deathly wrong deflected and redirected toward politicians, celebrities, and other public figures. Screens produce sprawling images that make your mind calmer than when you’re asleep. However, the biggest relief that is always floating in the ether is, again, production and consumption of merchandise.
How exactly is the commodity of human expression mined from individuals? What spawns the huffing and puffing of self-inflation? What feeds our excretions of vanity that pollute this Modern Media? Perhaps the answer lies with our Masters that always label what we produce as not good enough. Perhaps it’s Globalization that reminds us that we are but droplets in the sea of nothing. Or perhaps it is the fact that the people closest to you are more interested in the screen held twelve inches from their face over you and your agony.
The gold leaf that gilds this era has yet to begin peeling. The erosion of our public institutions is met with the unwavering optimism of our generation. The youth cries for change completely stripped of the education to identify what the problem is. So does the infant. The time comes when she aggressively spits out her pacifier in rejection of paltry order. She acts out and brings attention to maltreatment and poor leadership. We are and for the foreseeable future will be too weak to follow her clumsy footsteps