“If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don’t have to worry about the answers”
– Thomas Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow
“Yes, everyone seems to be asleep”
– Nine Inch Nails, Dear World
Operating in the dark,
In the dead of night
They weave the terrestrial mantle,
Penning fiction into fact.
We are Pavlov’s pups, conditioned
En masse to not know what we know not,
Tightened in a shadowy knot.
Wraithlike pact. Transcendental.
‘Tis a language of soundless whispers
Unbeknown to our eardrums.
And the plots thicken by the year.
And we roam around like scattered ants
Until they put us back in line
Harvesting, day in, day out
In collective automata.
Weaving, weaving, weaving the threads
Traversed by us, sleepwalkers
Zombified by phantom stimuli
To obey. Obey. OBEY.
And hush. Hush, HUSH.