I think I’ve always had a touch of paranoia, even as a kid. What started as an open trust in the benevolence and altruism of humanity turned into a self-protective distrust of those who would seek to hurt me. Throwing myself into the religion of love did nothing to turn me right again. In fact, it fueled my paranoia until I burned in its self-fueling heat. Did not matter one iota that I was turning into an irascible asshole as long as I was doing the Good Work to shine the light on the demons in the shadows and call out the devils in the corner who seek to dominate, contort, and drag humanity down to Hell.
Now, as a sophomoric old man, I’ve dropped the pursuit of the invisible, yet I am still hunting the boogeymen lurking in the shadows. Instead of railing on about a spiritual war, I’m rattling on to any who would pay attention about the corporate war over consumer souls, digging deep and hypothesising about the snares set to dominate, twist, and drag us down into another level of control and profit.
I’ve become one of those old men who, after being confronted with a new thing on the market, will talk loudly about The Riggings Beneath It All, the puppetry, smoke and mirrors designed to soothe, confuse, and ensnare us. Can’t stop myself from pointing out the rig. And part of me hates this about my nature, about the fact that I cannot put my trust into much in this world.
In my younger life, I could pray for guidance, love, and release (knowing full-well that my mission was to illuminate), but now, there’s no prayer except to my fellow man, begging for him to see what’s going on. There really is no difference between the two; one is praying to the nonexistent, yielding nothing, and two is praying to the immovable, yielding nothing. One voice cannot move the masses. Not in this culture, not ever. And there is no Deus Ex Machina who will step in and put it all right when it all goes horribly wrong. The older I get, the more I understand this.
I assume the feeling of powerlessness is natural.