At a time like this, we gotta stand together.
This is a story in which I cover a lot of ground. The reason I wrote it is because every time I have a conversation with a friend who is still on the fence about the high percentage of blatant billionaire abuse in what we are currently living through, it turns into a bit of a groundhog day. And so I do the dance, refer to the science I’ve known about for a year but the respectable media is only daring mention now (sideways and with disclaimers), etc. etc. Often, in the middle of the conversation, I find that the person I am talking to has created a psychographic image of a “lockdown skeptic” in their head, and then we have to unwrap the scroll and do the dance again. For example, I often find that because I am observing a clear attempt at global digital colonization, as destructive in its impact as the colonial ventures of the past, or because I don’t trust the famous tech billionaires with my mind or body—or because I haven’t forgotten the story of smallpox blankets (or what Hitler did) and I don’t believe that the mind of a colonizer has changed since then—then it must be that I “don’t believe that the virus can kill” etc. To solve the talking points problem once and for all, I went deep into the woods and described my views (as of this second) in excruciating detail. Everything I say is an opinion. At this moment. My personal opinion based on my life experience and instincts. Experience- and instinct-based opinion is the best a human being can hope for as far as proximity to the truth. Do we agree on that?
I am not afraid to express my opinion about the “pandemic measures.” Why? Because I have an inner clarity about what’s at stake. It is my own deep feeling, not anybody’s whisper. The details might iron out this way or the other—but the overall trajectory is clear. I am familiar with history, I feel it with my entire body, and I don’t care if the Pravda of today—or the people who are still enchanted—don’t approve of my opinion. Petty things like that don’t matter at a time like this. I am an artist, and that title comes with responsibility. My job is not to give in to the abusive bullies but to be true to what I feel.
So no, I am not afraid.
And furthermore, I am also not afraid to talk about it—be it with people who agree with me or with those who don’t. To my senses, it’s illegal to yell at anyone who is sincere and respectful—both ways—and whose heart is in a pure place. No one owns the truth, things constantly evolve, and any well-intended, open-minded conversation is great. However, when people get triggered by disagreement with their talking points, screw that crap. Saliva-spitting, dehumanizing narrative addicts come in [ … ]