i'm working on a place to put the moon

There has been, along with all our leaps forward, a definite worsening of the historical failures of alternative press. There is a flourishing of bruised quasi-intellectuals posturing on their homepages to varying, but not by much, levels of success, but we add to it now the greater ease of self-invention (aka lying). So much potential pissed away on the relentless ego mainly men suppose is their self. Women do it too, but not usually so fanatically wastefully: there are mitigations in our muddle. People gaming each other to death. So many betas tricking people into supposing they can lead, or give policy, within their little spheres, their little communities in Outer Blogistan. So many people supposing chic linkage saves the world. Saves the self-image is what... and all... the sum total of their discretionary time.

I like that it's a global thing, but hate that so many citizens of other countries pose as Americans. While nobody is going to hear me complain that they have no right to hope for, say, presidential candidates here, I can't describe my loathing for their blithe ignoring of very much that is crucial to Americans as they indulge themselves in their guilty little enthusiasms. Just when we finally get a majority of Americans who finally are beginning to realize they finally have no business butting-in to the political affairs of other nations, we get this burst of foreigners not only butting-in here, but doing it while posing as citizens. Downside of everyone on earth speaking our language, or something.

Anyway, the annals of wasted little men turning the discernment and dissemination of truth into a form of onanism that involves other people, or the obnoxious wish for them at least, reaches new frontiers in the pipes. Some of them even snag the attentions of people who will work to add crucial information, deluded by their own default assumptions that making so much noise about something means the noisemaker wants solutions for real. Pfeh. Not even. Noisemakers, by a huge majority, want to be noticed, adored, followed, heard, admired for their altruism. If you solve the problem, all that goes away. They're empty, and -- dig it -- the endurance of no problem on earth is worse than the endurance of emptiness. You actually threaten to help vaporize what irks them: they actually start thinking of you as an enemy. Try it. Pick one. Press the sissy dressed as a knight and find out.

There was a kid on Wikipedia who posed as someone twice his age, with twice his education, who managed to rise on the strength of these lies being believed to a place where serious people wanted to hire him. Of course, he was found out then, and his karma bit him on the ass so hard there isn't enough left to grow one back. But mostly the posers don't get enough attention to have to face this kind of justice; they only get enough to waste the time of a few earnest people, and we hope their karma is clean enough that that won't be for too very long. This is just like the thousands of bald-guys-in-dresses posing as Buddhists across the globe, living out their fantasies on the attentions they can gull from the heartbroken.

Be careful out there! We are living in a time when effectiveness is everything, when literally the entire planet depends on our genuine-ness, courage and love. It is hard enough to rise from the befuddlement of our own silly conditioning without the armies of charlatans sprinkling sleeping powder on us while yelling, "Wake up!" This is even worse than the mass nappers who so popularly act as if they are awake, because that is ordinary, that is usual: the sound asleep convinced they are awake, the dead believing themselves alive. No. I'm talking to you, the one who is awake but getting covered in sleeping powder by poseurs. You can't ask liars to tell you the truth. It never works. You have to discern it, and too often you have to work really hard against your own wish for their truthfulness to see that they are nonetheless lying. It hurts like holy hell, but it's mandatory to the future of life on this planet.

So, if you will have the truth about liars you'd hoped so hard were being true, I will gladly die for you too.