Flogging The Neocon Horse

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Wednesday, 15 October 2014

It's all a little 2003 here in the United States of Australia, isn't it?  Tony Abbott and his gang of neocon sociopaths are flogging a horse that by any standards should be dead, if we, the paddock inhabitants, were to learn from recent history.

If it's incomprehensible to you how such a shoddy first-draft piece of crap story could be the one we are forced to live in, just follow follow the money.  If you dare.  It is easy to call conspiracy theory that which we are terrified of, and I can think of no more terrifying story than the mass majority of people being controlled by a very small wheel of rather rich ones.  Easy to call that story a conspiracy because doesn't it just stomp all over your carefully crafted visions of your own freedom?  Best not look.  That seems to be the going approach to this sort of thing.  If we don't look, it won't be happening.  Better to post a lovely graphic on Facebook about how we are all exactly where we need to be at this particular time.

Well, it is happening despite that.  And being on the bottom of the socioeconomic scale for quite some time now, I can tell you that it's having an effect for the worse.  If you wish to close your doors and surround yourself with your beautifully-smelling just-bathed children, that's understandable.  Just-bathed children are one of life's delights.  However, if you choose to believe that you yourself can keep those children safe from the rigours of the outside world, best hope that your child grows up without any form of mental illness, and as one of the lucky ones with a fine, good job.  But good luck with that, because you'll need a hefty dose of it.  Fine, good jobs are drying up under fabricated conditions.  This globalisation beast is still chewing up the earth with its jagged steel jaws, and it's still pushing us all into small spaces that have been designed to do just that.  If all of us stood up to this ridiculous fabrication that keeps us enslaved into jobs we hate and from doing the work we love it would be over.

Just like that.

Once, one person was able to feed, clothe and house an entire family.

So following the money, you've got Gina and Rupert and Joe Hockey and Tony Abbott and other incredibly rich and/or powerful people who are the puppets for those above them throughout the world.  Yes, it's terribly conspiracy theory, isn't it?  All rather easily documentable, as well.  These are the real entitled ones.  They refuse to pay their taxes but use the drip tactic to try and convince you that the problem lies with you.

Over and over again, until you start maybe feeling yourself weaken, feeling maybe down in your shame centre, where the powerful prod, that maybe they're right and it really IS simply all your fault because you're not trying hard enough.  You really CAN be as rich as you should be - you're just not MANIFESTING in the right way!!!  Because it really is all about earning what you deserve, don't you know?

While there is a massive element of personal responsibility for healing and reducing shame-based beliefs that keep us constrained, don't believe that crap for a minute that it's all your fault.  You're not an island; you live on one.  The last 100 years have seen the money dry up for the majority.  It's trickled up into the coffers of the richest who care little enough about you that they'll fleece you at every turn.  And they're maybe a little scared of you too, you outnumbering them by a considerable margin, and so they'll do their best to keep you down as well, take that pension off you.  They know a leaner when they see it. 

The richest 1% in Australian own as much as the bottom 60%.

And I am seriously considering moving to Cambodia.  Get away from this rapidly-spoiling place.  Away from the constraints of a system and an economy that has me by the throat.  To get well, I need to rest.  How do I do that in such an expensive country, where it costs so much to pay for the privilege of living on a piece of ground once squandered from others?  Maybe Cambodia.  Or Turkey.  Or Kazakhstan.  Somewhere away from these prying Five Eyes and their rich counterparts (hello, Mrs Saxo-Coburg-Gotha) and their continuing tyranny on the populace, one so beige if your skin is white that it's so very easy to switch off while you are immersed in it like frog water, right up to your neck.
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