Water, Water Everywhere… thats a Quid to You, Ta

People moan, don’t they, about having access to clean drinking water.

We don’t actually hear them moan because generally we’re a long, long way away in more civilised countries where, although the water companies may dose us with fluoride just in case we’ve forgotten to brush our teeth [which I think is a nice change from corprorations actively killing us all slowly for profit],  at least we can drink the water from the tap and know it probably won’t kill us. It may, of course, knock 10 per cent off IQ depending on exactly how fluoridated it is, but let’s face it- they say we only use 10 per cent of the brain anyway and some clearly get by on much less.

In addition to the assault on the IQ through fluoride, corporations and governments are ramping up the soft kill on a stupefied and bewildered mass of those caught in the media-military-industrial matrix. HD TV for one is definitely producing a zombifying effect in regular viewers, makig me suspicious of why a government that so  heartily applauds the extermination of the poor (the British government, though you may well find it applies elsewhere) were so eager to give everyone free HD boxes.

Was this just them being kind or is there some carrier signal in the HD- some hypnotic subliminal suggestions to go along with the admitted ‘programming’?

The fact that the average person in Britain has stronger views on the Great British Bakeoff than seems feasible could be a sign of the dumbing-down kicking in all round.

As I am currently in Cambodia, where it is definitely not a good idea to drink the tap water, I hold no strong Bake Off opinion.  I understand it was won by someone who looks like a Muslim, however, and so it became totemic in its way: either it brought the country together in a wonderful example of the tolerant meritocracy of modern Britain or was yet another sign that the fucking pakis are taking over.

People’s opinions differed depending on their own degree of racism and, let’s face it, their generation.

The series ended with no jihadi suicide belts improvised from cake tins and egg whisks. It was just some people cooking stuff and then some judges deciding which was best. And then those watching nodded in assent because- although they could not themselves taste these morsels or even appreciate them with palates overused to McCain oven chips with ketchup- the experts agreed. Those important ones in that box thing making decisions so the viewer doesn’t have to.

Sleep. Sleep.

Before the terror attacks in France, this was event TV. This was the big feelgood story of the summer in the UK; a reminder, so we were told, of what makes Britain great: the assimilation of minorities, toad-in-the-hole and outside broadcasts from posh old places so we can sell the show- and the British Dream- to the rest of the world.

It’s not a format that I think will be much copied. Pies seem a particularly English thing, like Murray Mints or tutting as a serious escalation in hostility.

Let’s hope Mel and Sue become the international icons they deserve to be before cancer claims one or either of them. They’ve always had a lot of energy and charisma and, perhaps because they seemed for years to be utterly rubbish at TV presenting, we always find ourselves rooting for them. Probably one or two too many jokes about periods back in the day but hey. What do I know. Last time I blundered into that aisle in the supermarket I thought I was looking at shelves of bonsai nappies and wondered how Tesco had been keeping the existence of the little people so quiet for so long.

That’s the shadow government folks. That’s the power they have.

Mel and Sue still have a manic way about them remniscent of  women who have started to have too many cats and not enough years left in which to find someone who is a cat lover.

Anyway, I digress.

In fact that’s all I’ve been doing: the observant among you may have noticed that by now.

What the fuck has this mindless drivel got to do with the title, I hear you ask.

I forget what the title was now, so wait a sec while I go and check.

Ah, yes. A quick scroll and we’re back on track.

Water, water everywhere and elite think tanks predict we will be fighting real and actual wars over what will become a scarce commodity. Thing is, when these elite think tanks ‘predict’ something what they really mean is that these are their targeted, desirable outcomes. The elite talk to themselves all the time quite openly about all kinds of dark shit to further imprison humanity. You don’t have to scour the guest list of the next Bilderberg meeting to find clues to the future they would have mapped out for us.

A visit to the websites of many of these think tanks gives access to public policy documents which often have truly shocking aims. The elite like to have these where people can read them secure in the knowledge that hardly anyone can be arsed to and they will certainly never be picked up by the papers.

Think tank policy documents become law in the time it takes MI6 to threaten a public screening of each MP’s visits to Elm Guest House. Laws are passed by inept, braying coke heads who get told what and where to sign and no need to read the fine print. In return MPs are allowed to trouser up jobs that offer oodles of money for as little as sod all, sometimes rising to fuck all work and the cold realisation that, if they had souls to sell in the first place, they were now truly sold to all that is dreadful.

The Brookings Institute, one of many elite think tanks, proudly detailed the plans for Syria years ago. There’s a load of other papers commisioned by Brookings in which the fascist elements of the American Establishment (which is pretty much everyone these days) cook up geopolitical strategy and future conflicts but, to be honest, even thinking about linking there drains me psychically.

What is sold to the proles as a world gone mad is the working through of clear hegemonic objectives coming from elite policy to smash anyone left to resist and steal all that they can. In the dream of Manifest Destiny, some things never change.

Things are starting to go horribly haywire with their centuries’ old plan to subjugate all of us under a one world tyranny. Perhaps if the elite hadn’t obsessively cousin-fucked for generation after generation, they would be able to see the writing on the wall. The NWO is doomed to failure due to the complete lack of imagination, charm and class possessed by those who have inherited the ‘secret plan fo the ages. They are unable to react to rapid and unpredictable changes except by wildly banning anything and everything and pretending that the panopticon police state is panning out super, despite the fact that those left policing work for G4S and are on zero hour contracts and couldn’t give a fuck anyway.

The power of the elite ultimately derives from scarcity and their control of supplies of things people need. However, the scarcity paradigm is coming to an end on many fronts.

If I have an mp3 track I want to share with you, doing this doesn’t deprive me of my own copy. Same goes for movies. To be honest, I won’t even watch most films for free so dreadful is modern cinema. Just because I have an unwatched file of a film on a hard drive doesn’t deprive a film studio of money they wouldn’t have had off me anyway, but music is more problematic. The producer- i.e the musicians- don’t have big budgets and can’t rely on a paying audience or the enormous profits that come with popcorn sales.

The amazingly talented LoneLady for one can barely stretch further than a tin of beans and that bloke out of Hot Chip can’t even afford a saveloy, much less cod. Meanwhile Adele makes £2 million a year for making an awful noise from her big hole yet nobody knows anyone anywhere who actually buys her music.

Energy, in contrast to digital media, is we are repeatedly told scarce. This scarcity of course helps keep the oil price high as does global uncertainty such as engineered wars, which themselves use up fabulous amounts of oil, keeping demand high and the whole ugly machine going.

However, we are perhaps only a short time from an end to scarcity in energy. This is one of the things the elite are shitting themselves over. Another thing  is glass-topped coffee tables, all the while being spanked by someone dressed as their former house master.

Word is there are so many alternatives to oil now that it’s only a matter of time before someone altruistically releases the knowhow on how to obtain zero-point energy, say, or more conventional renewables become viable. Once the technology is in mass production and costs come down, why would anyone wish to stick to paying for energy per unit when energy is abundant and, per unit, essentially free?

If these technologies get off the ground, the same thing that happened to the music industry is likely to happen to the energy companies.

In the case of the music industry, technology suddenly appeared that meant a master-quality copy of a track could be easily had for free with no theft because nobody had been deprived of their property. Granted, the artist lost out on their intellectual property rights but considering they would only have got a fraction of sod all per sale anyway due to generally unfavourable contracts, nobody felt much guilt as they downloaded discographies of bands they would never have time to listen to. Of course this entirely sucked for the musicians: even a measly sum multiplied enough times adds up to a comfortable lifestyle of driving cadillacs into swimming pools, top notch posh snorted from the silicon breasts of binty models and then saving the world with a Brian Eno collaboration.

Sadly, the days of making money out of recorded music are over- even for succesful artists. There are one or two artists [Half Man, Half Biscuit and The Fall] whose work I actively buy to show support but, to be honest, I’d rather just download and then write them a cheque for the amount than pay for an album through iTunes where royalties are just as shit- or worse- as they have always been.

Alternatives to iTunes based in Russia offer tracks for just a few cents each- it would be interesting to see if their royalty cheques were any lower than Apple’s. Certainly, the likes of goldenmp3.ru are much better value and claim to be legal.

As for asking the general public to pay what they want- Unless you are Radiohead, it turns out people really don’t want to pay anything, thanks.

Music can be turned on like a tap and while the public realise musicians should get something for what they do, the average person is pretty skint right now also. And they’ve got a shit job of clock watching and the passive agressive cognitive dissonance of being a real team player.

Writing has similarly been both devalued and democratised by the internet so that people are turning in pieces to profitable companies that would once have had to pay them for the copy. Now, it’s all spun as great exposure which, as every writer will tell you, fills the belly and goes down great with whiskey and big, self-pitying sobs.

There are now more internet pages than there are people [NB: must check] and so, even if you like a particular site or writer, you don’t feel like you owe them anything. If anything, they should be grateful you’re bothering to read them. Writers are ten a penny. To cope with the problem of too much abundance, sites have responded by offering people exactly what they need to generate clicks- generally mindless bullshit but there we go. Oh, and lists. People always love a list. Or a quiz that says “You’re awesome” at the end for Facebook validation. Yes, I know you’re awesome. That’s why your my friend in the first place; but to be honest with each quiz you post the results of I am inching that bit further towards the unfriend button.

Opposed to this abundance in technology-driven spheres, we are facing a crisis, of course, in that the actual biosphere on which we rely for life itself consists of increasingly scarce resources while paradigm-ending actual scarcity is not even recognised as such by classical economists. They just figure we can substitute one economic sector for another so if, for example, we lose ninety per cent of agriculture because it turns out Monsanto are lying cunts, then we can just substitute this for some other economic activity to keep the economy growing. Hand jobs, perhaps. Or a new Wetherspoons.

Water is particularly at risk moving forward, but mainly because it has been targetted by the global elite to be a resource of future scarcity. Then they will have us, paying day in day out to keep from drying up and blowing away. But if you do just fuck off and die then good. You’re a useless eater taking up valuable space and you didn’t go to the right school.

Many are convinced this is the true agenda of fracking- an industry that makes no actual business sense except as a a tax dodge and as a cunning way of poisoning the aquifers so that we are forced to go to Nestle etc for our daily water.

As I said before, I am in Cambodia where all drinking water is bottled. The country’s too poor for the multinationals to really bother with much branding work, unlike neighbouring Vietnam where all water in convenience stores is manufactured by Coca Cola [Dasani], Nestle and Pepsi Cola, whose water was recently proven in America to just be tap water that they’d put, untreated, into bottles. Cheeky, but not as bad for your teeth as their main product.

A lot of these bottled waters contain fluoride at wildly varying rates and the plastic also has certain hormone-disrupting chemicals that are a possibly carcinogenic. This is why I stick to beer in glass bottles where possible (any time after my second coffee).

Anyway, I’ve decided to ‘sell out’ my writing services and am currently in the process of selling the slogan “Drinking is to drought as thinking is to thought” to one of these water companies. It’s great because it sounds maybe profound but is utterly meaningless and tragically fails to rhyme even.

Some of Nestle’s people are interested in finding out when I’ve got a window open but I’m not sure I trust them. I have visions of them sneaking a ladder up the wall when I’m out and sniffing through my laundry basket.

I now realise, with slogans like the above and that one I thought I’d written for the British Vegetables Marketing Board [“give peas a chance”],that  had I been more evil, I could have been a top marketing arse full of spin and cunning stunts in some deathless corporate  role. Sadly, I grew up with this weird thing called a bigger picture and a sense of shame, however. Which isunfortunate really because chicks don’t really go in for things like that.

Once I realised that PR existed merely to perception manage corporate crimes against humanity to that same humanity; that HR functioned to keep the incarcerated peons in endless fear; that sales and marketing promoted an unsustainable paradigm of consumption whether the product was needed or not; that my distinct ability to see straight through jargon and cliche infuriated every manager I ever had; and that all the above meant no promotion was ever likely (much less getting laid by anyone that wasn’t crazy) and that corporations themselves are legal persons who are bound by law to behave like psychopaths… well, I kind of lost interest in the whole thing, really.

But on a freelance basis, Nestle… let’s clear a space and make this happen. You can pay me in Milky Bars if you like. Or Nescaff

 

 

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