Des glaneuses (1857): Jean-Francois Millet

see "hmmm."

para los politicos---there is no “please” left to talk about---SPEAK OF THE LOWER CLASS, M***********S---yes, let that wretched little phrase fall from your tongue---let it drip out like the syphilis-ridden vd lies that build up the inner thighs, harden the skin and redden the eyes of you perfect-hand-shaking zombie suckers of all things good with what’s left of us---speak of the lower than lower---speak of the people that you step over on your way to work---speak of the people who will never see their remaining family members again---speak of those too scared to open their mouths and demand what is rightfully theirs as a human amongst other humans---speak of those that know what justice really is (that sweet smell that comes with the fresh new death of a figurehead---that sweet smell of sweat that is finally compensated----that sweet smell of workers killing off the management and taking over the plant/factory themselves---that sweet smell of people gaining just what they put into a job and not a moment less---that sweet smell of the rich being hung by their own republica fashion gucci 30 carats of diamonds belt---watch em’ swing, watch em’ swing---and then that sweet smell of the sweat that comes when the poor devour the body in theft, tearing away the pants, shirt, wallet (wallet’s special gifts inside), etc.---setting aflame that leftover shallow money-green entity, with a match to that multi-zillion dollar cologne (all so the ladies will f**k the power that is supposed to overshadow his itsy bitsy peeny weeny)---stop speaking, do us all a favor and get out while you still can---do us all a favor and get in your spacecrafts that are certainly being built and fly off to your next-planet-in-the-sky, where you can again try and manufacture a people that will do exactly your bidding and not veer off into wanting more for themselves and their children (hmmm.  remember that even the robots will want more WD40)---when those talking heads hit the screens they talk of the middle---that middle that is neutral---a fictitious place between the haves and the have nots---a fairytale to make the few haves with a conscience feel like there is still a way for the poor to excel and move upwards---listen to mr. moore when he says that “you will never be rich”---you will never attain that place, if you think you will be able to---there are walls and paid people sitting atop them with guns and bombs waiting for you to come---and they will be able to fend us all off as long as we are anesthetized by the ads that they churn---the campaigns to make us feel that we are inadequate and that we should focus on how much glam and glitz that we do not have instead of real ways to build communities---like rock says, real wealth is that wealth that changes lives---“wealth is empowering, wealth can uplift communities from poverty”---and how dangerous will we be when we come to the conclusion that the ways of dividing us all on the basis of ANY F*****G THING THAT YOU CAN MUSTER---is completely debilitating?  how dangerous will we be when we come together and realize that things all the ways of separating people based on the propaganda that flows in the everyday, which forms the backbone of this country is in fact lies on top of more lies---how dangerous will we be--- the working people of this nation---when we realize that together (when we stop wanting more for our individual selves and realize that what we need is freedom from the system exploiting us), we are a stronger force than anything that can be thrown at us---and that we can outlast every attack upon us---and that our sheer unstoppable will, can change this world for the better?  but see, we are told by the ads that flash on our screens, that pump from our radios, that are spun on our billboards, that we are incompetent---that as individuals we can attain a better life (so we must compete with others---we must perpetually fight against those that are seemingly doing the same thing, trying to better themselves, alone, without uniting and without opening our eyes to the reality of being f*****g lied to) if we just sell out our brothers and our sisters who are fighting the very same fight as we are---if we decide that the person down the street’s wellbeing doesn’t mean a f*****g thing, and that all that matters is our own money money money---then we will be good little citizens and buy into the biggest lie of all---that if you keep your nose to the grindstone and work within the parameters that they give you, and do what they say needs to be done---that sooner or later, those table scraps will be thrown to you---and maybe, just maybe, someday, you will be asked to come and sit at the table yourself.  good luck with that.  keep sucking the man’s dick.  keep licking the man’s a*s.  keep selling every single cell that’s in your body in hopes of a bigger return.  sell sell sell m**********r, until there is nothing to sell anymore, and then sell your kin---sell your kids like it was going out of fashion---and when they have kids, sell them---and on and on and on---until one day, we might remember you as the biggest w***e that ever lived---who spread its legs for all of us to see, in hopes of being stronger and more powerful than all of us---in hopes of getting its own piece of the pie and f*****g all the rest of us over on the way---stomping on all of our backs---yes, praise ye who understands the market of the human heart, and how to exploit and sell it to the highest bidder---for ye shall be the detonator for the world’s explosion.