Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: The Media (in any form) (11/11/10)
TITLE: Crying in the Wilderness
By Linda Germain
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I consider myself an embedded journalist-spy, driven by a passion to expose the outcome of these classified proceedings. The hushed tones match the understated gray and black suits--disguises if you will--designed to make a serious statement of authority.
The enticing aroma of expensive coffee reaches around the corner and embraces me like a friend who knows what I need. I fill the sturdy mug and slide into one of the soft leather chairs with padded arms. I make notes in my own shorthand whose code is known only to me.
I glance up to find a silver-haired man staring at me. He sports a caterpillar looking mustache and hair that screams toupee. I vaguely remember having seen him before.
He gives me a brusque nod. I return to more intense doodling as I ignore the others coming in twos and threes. In a few minutes I’m the object of yet another stare. I assume my own brief steely-eyed gaze, daring him to notice one thing that brands me a rebel with a cause. I am cool personified; a man who does not sweat. It works. He looks away.
Each time this assembly meets I cringe at how like sheep the human race has become and how easy it is to plan and perpetuate deception on the growing ignorant masses; even worse, the deadly tentacles of this global fraud reach in every conceivable direction.
The planet is drowning in sophisticated cesspools of manipulation...tsunami floods of bad influence very few can resist. Most of the world is duped and dazzled by misinformation. A persistent brain fog seems to envelope mankind. Darts of destruction are dipped in the poison of delusion.
The famous seven deadly sins have crept in and around every faucet of life, right through wires connected to our houses and satellites beaming from the sky. Smooth and tricky words touting false ideas beckon from newsstands and in the mail; from billboards and neon signs; on sides of buses and right in our faces on computer screens.
My mind is alert as I scribble random thoughts, ready to write the final chapter to sound an alarm--a useless death knoll to be ignored.
Constant noise, the perfect distraction to unaware brains, paves the way for subtle messages to weave spells. Peace and quiet seems to be an agitation. There is no apparent relief from the barrage.
We cannot even shop without musical accompaniment designed to impress us in specific directions to buy things we do not need. Millions of dollars are spent on rent for storage facilities in which to keep our excess. The new and growing disease of hoarding until our homes are unlivable is proof of the mass insanity.
The enemy oozes in and around every tiny part of a population who responds to media stimuli like Pavlov’s dogs and follow blindly, hypnotized and helpless to refuse anything that tastes good, feels good, or denies truth.
We are fed copious amounts of information from 24-hour news casts, spot on advertising, and uninformed teaching. Salacious gossip fueled by a frenzy of paparazzi has invaded privacy and crippled any perspective or integrity. Even so, we are perishing daily from lack of knowledge.
The meeting is over. We are dismissed with instructions on the latest ways and means to profit from the destruction of the human soul. We leave in single file like programmed robots. The others go dutifully to their jobs to perpetuate myths and lies and nonsense.
I find an unlocked door and escape to the outside where the air is not so stuffy. The sun feels warm on my face. I hear purposeful footsteps. The man with the lopsided mustache falls in beside me. He whispers one word, a code: *PELLGGW.
I nod my head ever so slightly…an acknowledgement that we are indeed comrades; possibly even unsung heroes when the dust settles. For now the field is ripe for harvest. There is work to do and we move on.
*Pride, Envy, Lust, Laziness, Gluttony, Greed, Wrath
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