Deep-Fried Hypnosis

So much of what is sincerely new can be lost to most of us, even when we think we face life squarely. By his nature, a man casts his sights on the pleasures he dreams to attain and the pains he hopes to avoid. He fails, however, to realize how deeply this binary way of living cuts into his frame of mind and the actions that ensue. For regardless of how much knowledge he casts his net upon and gathers like a fitful miser, most if not all bears little fruit. He cares more of acceptance to the prevailing social order than he does to the applications of knowledge. It matters greatly to this member of the hive to how he is perceived to be rather than how he actually is, and by this near permanent feature of his psychology does a coat of ignorance fill his eyes and blind his views.

He listens while waiting for his turn to talk. He walks towards idle things and misses the gems beneath his steps. His beliefs behave like iron walls and cloud his judgment from bending into friendly curves. But of course his ideas of himself are never of such a nature, nor does he care to think or feel a dose of doubt or playful paranoia at the idea that his real being has long since been in hiding. Society praises outloud of the merits of failure, yet all these peasants of industry know the sink or swim reality of foiled attempts. It is better not to try, or to pretend to try, and in this latter word starting with a ‘p’ does falsity enter the scene and block the otherwise gentle spirit from cracking open any new doors.

Men pretend to know a great many things. And it is worse, for they believe in what they pretend. It is a sort of deep-fried hypnosis of which everyone more or less is infected. Raise a subject and they will repeat like parrots, or perhaps even invent things as they go. Their eyes will glare with intensity at times, and it is in these moments that they are best left to talk til the gears of mechanics run dry of oil. It is absurd to what severe degree this holds true, regardless of any passing opposition to the idea. Men out in the true wilderness lack material and are fairly empty as humble beasts on the outskirts of nature, but the tradesmen of these modern human hives are left off far worse, as cups quite full and ever overflowing, with skewed recordings that play endlessly of the same old tune.


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