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The Worried Water Jar

The Silly Cistern has turned into The Worried Water Jar. It happened to overhear a debate about fear and its uses as a tool to manipulate masses and manufacture consent. Now it's all freaked out...

What started the whole thing was a weird radio segment where the guests on the broadcast were raising shrill concerns over the increasing privatization of global water supplies. Something about historical wars being waged over precious resources by countries vying to control them, but now, since corporations have quietly bought up the rights to key water sources, the fight's a legal one people can't even imagine how to wage, much less win. So now the Cistern thinks it's gonna become slave to some wholly owned subsidiary, conscripted into service, rented back to the family it onced shared itself with for some usurous ungodly fee.

See? That's just my point: getting all worked up over this is just plain un-American. We've nothing to fear from these guys. They're us, after all, right? They'd not gain control of natural resources needed to sustain life and commerce and leverage it just to wring another buck from their brothers, would they? Besides, we still have the right to bear arms. Regardless of the fact that it wouldn't be that kind of fight. And there'd be no place to take said fight even if it was.

Our elected officials and public utility commissions have not been entirely asleep at the switch, either. Have they? No one company on American soil can own and arbitrarily administer an aquifer essential to the well-being of farms and families in one of the most agriculturally rich places in our country, right? That's just crazy talk. Meant to scare folks (and sweaty water jars). They're not gonna fool me. I know those folks simply own the pistachio empire. I'm cool with that. The rest, well I'll just ignore that.

All this fear is un-American, so I smudged a smile on the cistern, loaded up my favorite mug with fresh ice cubes and enjoyed myself a nice long draught. Water wars. Crazy. Now sugar and poppy plants, on the other hand... But we don't trade much in those, do we?

Future Slut

In the distant future, large-brained archaeologists will un-earth this graffiti-covered doorway from the rubble and dust and determine that this was a portal of great significance, as evidenced by the many glyphs, thick layers of ponderous pictographs and cryptic script.

These sages will conclude that this must have marked the dwelling of a fierce warrior, or a venerable member of the nobility, or perhaps the sanctuary of a potent and powerful shaman or perhaps a high priestess.

A new cult will arise and a shrine will be erected -er, so to speak - and an entire cultural movement will swell, revering "Slut". This movement will sweep the land.  People will tap their chips to Google and Wikipedia this "Slut", so as to divine it's true meaning.  They will meditate fiercely on the unfathomable spiritual mystery, wondering why it must have been so vitally important to 'get screwed by any and all comers.'  They will consume anything they can find to fill the void.  Nothing will fill them, for it is not a hunger they feel, but a thirst.  Parched in a desert wasteland of newsertainment, they will eat entire dunes and still want, lacking.

There will come tidal waves of T-shirts that will read the new-found mantra: "Go Ahead & Fuck Me. I'm Screwed Already," symbolizing a new era ushered in by a marked increase in unbridled abuse by civic leaders, public officials, and captains of industry sticking it to entire populations of people, trading platitudes, pandering, and proffering mere peanuts in return.

The people will bridle at the bit, and chafe, bemused at a distant needling suspicion and embrace their rising worry.  They will clamor for more and wonder why, praying and meditating all the more fervently, seeking a divinity of clarity and understanding  that feels so close, yet so elusive; just beyond reach, at the frayed and fading outer edge of their dwindling consciousness.

Legions of  unscrupulous Spinmeister Marketers of the future - serving the nefarious machinations of all manner of insipid corporate interests - will have succeeded at immediately and completely twisting things to their advantage over the unsuspecting, sleepwalking, sheepish masses.    Striving to fully fill the aggravated avarice swamping the shallows of ignorance and consuming the depths of greed.  Whole revolutions for freedom and liberty will sputter, gasp, and die. All to the thunderous, anxious roar of mass approval.

The worm will turn.
History will cycle, wheel, and repeat.
What's old will be new again.
So it is written, so shall it be done.