Skulkers and Slinkers

Look at nobodies skulking out of back rooms, slinking out of dark corners before they parade their powdered talking points at we the people.

As if we hoi polloi cannot do for ourselves because powdered emperors on parade giveth and taketh according to bullshit floated in back rooms, dark corners.

:eyeroll:

Skulkers and Slinkers

See here's the thing about bullshit: it doesn't give a damn whether you're a nobody or a somebody, anybody can fling it. 

But buying a whole steaming pile of it?

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Skulkers, to hear them tell it, have it together. The dole of crap we're supposed to buy? They know best. So much so, they don't listen to us. Hence... back rooms, where they listen to each other.

As if skulkers cannot in good conscience, dish dogpiles to the full-of-it when the full-of-it are their own.

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Slinkers, to hear them tell it, are brimming with heart and grace. The perfumed rot we're supposed to swallow? They have solutions. Not ours, of course, they don't believe us. Hence... dark corners, where they believe each other.

As if slinkers without their sanctimony masks are angels among their own.

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I mean... is it just me or are we hoi polloi getting sold a hill of beans like a whole lot of nothing is really, really something?

Not because anybody in their right mind is asking for a hill of beans, but because back rooms and dark corners are stuffed to the gills with... somebodies.

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Here's the thing about somebodies: they've got an opinion on just about everything. Whether their skin's in the game or not.

They're not sweating at a gas pump fill-up or biting their nails in a grocery store checkout lane. They're not dreading the rent coming due or delaying out-of-pocket out-of-reach health care. Because

that's baloney

for we the hoi polloi

to trust.

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Which is to say: they indulge their main characters as if consequences are for everybody but them. Because our price to pay for their plots is whatever they please.

So a heaping helping of warmed-over muck and over-cooked twaddle, for us.

For them,

undoubtedly what they're buying in back rooms and what they're believing in dark corners is the God's honest truth.

Because obviously skulkers and slinkers, possessed of boundless respect and decency for themselves and each other, are allergic to dishonesty and deceit within their number. 

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I mean... if not for their firehoses of sewage, what would we stuff between our ears? I shudder to imagine what fearsome burden the truth must ask of bullshit flinging...

somebodies.

More

Skulkers and slinkers are corrosive

for so. many. reasons.

I cannot do them justice in a two-minute read.

But if the only shot I've got is a figurative shot across the bow, what do I have to lose?

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Back rooms and dark corners are 'back' and 'dark', by design. They do not exist for we the people; skulkers and slinkers create back rooms and dark corners for themselves and their own.

Not 'to improve' or 'to change' the real lives of real people, much less 'to fix' real problems or 'to resolve' real threats. Please.

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Skulkers and slinkers wield levers of power and control, because that's what main characters do for the plot.

Insofar as plots define the particulars of who, what, when, where, why, and how... back rooms and dark corners exist for such utility.

Case in point: shadow so-called 'campaigns' to sensationalize skulkers with inconceivable influentiality; fantastical so-called 'bona fides' to dramatize slinkers with extravagantly feigned legitimacy; etc.

Not because anybody is acting on real concern or really being one of a number because out of all the reasons skulkers and slinkers parade as powdered emperors of points, not one is to be real.

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If only nobody was buying swill to swallow. But somebodies are. Somebodies who believe skulkers and slinkers 'talk the talk' and 'walk the walk'. Because obviously knowing what's real and knowing what's not is not for anybody, not for we the hoi polloi. 

If we trust baloney soaked in toxic dump sludge.

M