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Thursday, January 26, 2017

ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL Part One in a Series of Reports by J. A. TRILIEGI


BUREAU OF ARTS AND CULTURE : NEWS 

BUREAU NEWS Would like to commend and recognize The Mainstream Press for recently reporting and holding Integrity and Honesty to the Ideal in which WE AMERICANS care for and support. This may indeed be a temporary reveal, because, much of what is said, cannot be separated from ADVERTISERS, which include AEROSPACE CONTRACTORS, BIG MEDICINE and Our FOOD Suppliers, though, as of Mid February 2017, respect must be paid, and so we mention these three Reporters for their Service.

REPORTERS :  


1.  CHUCK TODD :  https://twitter.com/chucktodd 
For Steadfastly and Patiently asking The Questions that Matter. 

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ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL Part One in a Series of Reports by J. A. TRILIEGI JANUARY 25, 2017     All along the border, double fences topped with barbed wire, trail across the land like so many scars on the flesh of a beaten horse. Humans of all shape and size, age and color, wander on either side, like ants, gathering bits of this and that, simply to survive.  The border itself is well fortified. Giant steel posts thrust upwards in a multiple vertical fashion, cold, grey, metal, blocks of concrete and men with guns, stand on either side, they are doing time, they are doing their job, they are taking orders, by a government, by a policy and by a code of service, which may very well, hurt their families, their future and themselves. As for international relations, well, "We The People …," have got some real work to do.    Rain trickles down, unlike finances, in abundance, on both sides of the border. Drops of  h2o feel the same from either side. This reporter walks across the great divide, entering simply to see, to observe, to experience and to meet the people of Mexico, or at least, the people of Baja California, which is not exactly, 'M - e - x - i - c - o,' in the same way that, Ellis island, is not exactly, 'A - m - e - r - i - c - a.'  And yet, there they are, offering this gringo a taxi ride to and fro. I am on a budget, no publisher or editor or local or national or international publisher would sponsor this sojourn, so I have travelled by bus, a simple twenty dollars from Downtown Los Angeles into Baja, and another 200 pesos, which is ten dollars, gets me into the tourist port town of Ensenada. A destination for the Princess Cruises. In olden day, frat boys, surfers, and tourists of all types descended upon this lovely destination in search of debauchery, coastal beauty and artifacts such as clothes, furniture, objects of value, offered, for much less than anywhere else. Decades of taking have left its mark on this locale, and yet, the new world, the world of technology. the world of commercial enterprise, the world of modern banking has emerged, and stands side by side with the ancient  world, we have mythologized about this great land, the land of the Maya and the Spanish Conquistador, mixed, long ago, to create this special race of people, we know as Mexicans and their country: Mexico. History tells us of a country that once sprawled much further north, into the continent that we, as Americans, now inhabit, California, Arizona New Mexico, Texas, etc…  The Southwest border states, where, we are now told, that a wall, will be built. As we drive south, over the first hurdle of hills into Ensenada, I can see a double fence, so high, that my eyes have trouble actually measuring its vertical height. Were I forced to estimate, I would guess that the swirling, jagged, barbed wire top sits at least some twenty or so feet in height ? As we drive up and over, I recall the early days of visits to Mexico, taking this same route, with my father, to see the bullfights, with my friends to Surf the coast, and as an artist, simply in search of something different in culture, lifestyle and respite. Since that time, I have been told, by my government, by my friends and by highly propagandized stories of struggle, anguish and fear of overlords, that this place is not safe to visit.    The Western Coast and indeed, the California route from North to South, has a beauty, that is unrivaled and Baja California is no exception. Choose  any one mile section of Carmel or Big Sur or Malibu or Baja, and, you will find, they are identical. The earth, the flower, the fauna, the water, the light are all the same. Green valleys peppered with long stretches of two lane highways, merge into gold, rust and creme colored edges that jut downward into rocky cliffs, bays, full with blue, turquoise and white topped waves that careen into the coastal edge. I am on a tourist bus, for the first time in my life. I focus on the coast, as my fellow passengers watch some such film being projected on a television screen, mounted high above their heads. American actors faces dubbed into spanish incongruously describe a false drama that does not relate to the landscape of the earth, the coast, the real beauty of a continent that we share with others. We share this continent with more than one country, that is clear to me, the politics of borders and policies and current views, are not at all as clear as the very FACT, that We share this continent with others.     The tour bus pulls into Ensenada proper, and already I can see a great indian past, the textures of Baja Mexico, are not at all unlike those of Rome or Tokyo or Bangladesh, the history is evident. The street corners, bus stop benches, and even the surface of the streets themselves speak to the viewer, "Where have you been and where are you going ?" I have no answer. I am seeking simply to see what is here now, and what I see are thousands of people walking to and from their homes, their jobs, their responsibilities to whomever and wherever and whatever. Then it comes to me, "Why I am here?"  Some time ago, I jokingly told a group of Mexican maids that if Mr. Donald Trump becomes the President of the United States of America, that I will be in Mexico on the day that this incident occurs, and so, I kept my promise, for in less than a day, this man will become the next President of our great country.   Besides occupying my time as a Journalist of some fledgling notoriety, I also write literature of a varying style and length: Screenplays, Short Stories and a Novel, so far.  It comes to mind that many in the industry including, Matthew McConaghy, Matt Damon and Ryan Gosling, all very white men of some talent, are married to women with descendants of the latin variety, men whom derive from Texas, from Boston from Canada. A symbol of the sharing of this continent, we call, America. And still we are told that a wall will be built: A Wall. A fence guards against entry, a wall blocks ones view, in obscuring views, perception and reality can be manipulated, like blinders, does this new government wish to obscure our views of one another ? To block our vision ?  To control our vista's as well as our Visa's ? It appears so. The Great Wall of China, The Berlin Wall, Pink Floyd's song lyrics from 'The Wall,' explains something about this policy, that most likely, a scared white man in power is, "… Just Another Brick in The WALL."     Like much of America, during the banking bailouts, some eight years ago, Mexico too has been pervaded by a proliferation of Banks. All over Mexico, young upwardly mobile individuals have been employed by this new modern system of checking and deposits, transfers and exchanges. A map of Mexico displays and amazingly flourishing economy of some sort, while on a near by television screen, an attractive young lady speaks excitingly about the new opportunities and services offered by this new technological wonder of modernity. Though this particular town has always had its own economy, and, long before these new technological advances gave them surveillance, invasions of privacy and the desecration of  anonymity, this little town had and still retains the old ways of knowing who is here, what they have with them and where they are going, with whom and why. The gained or earned - through - experience, survival skills, of any port or pirate town that, for over a hundred years, has found ways to survive its visitors, its inhabitants and even, it's conquistadors. In this particular case, the Indian past, sits side by side the technological future,  old world and new world meet, they make eye contact, they understand one another, they may even assist one another.     Pacific Coast Highway is not Malibu, just as Santa Monica is not Los Angeles and Big Sur is not Northern California. Suffice it to say, that the Coastal Section of Ensenada is not Baja California, by any means. And certainly Baja as a whole, is not at all a representation of Mexico, though, it is safe to say, if you speak to individuals, a bank teller, a bus driver, a casual man or woman on the street, you are indeed talking to a real Mexican, with real human concerns about a very real world that they are living in. I check into my hotel, the room is roughly 12 US dollars and some change, laundry is washed, dried and folded just across the way for under a dollar, fresh food at the local market is priced as such that I find myself giving bags I have purchased for mine own, to those I meet along the way. The first evening passes quickly, rain whips through the town, the streets flooded with over a foot of water in the lower regions.   Inauguration day arrives without much fanfare here, the television in the hotel lobby displays little about Mr Trump. I am beginning to realize that, the populist of Mexico have already been prepared for this new leader, they understand that American Presidents and most likely all leaders of major powers in the world, then and now, are what they are, a symbol, a face, or, if we search for the latin derivative source: simply a Facade. One need only walk a mile or so east, to find that Mexico, is not unlike any other place in the California's. Middle class neighborhoods lined with houses on either side, one and a half cars per home, some folks living at a higher elevation in the upper middle class areas and those whom own businesses, land and expanses of property of all variety. It is much like any place in the world, some people have money and some people do not. We have heard the new American Presidents criticism's over the past year regarding this country,  its people,  its past, it's problems. Something comes to mind, as I walk through town, a question arises, " Does any Country in the world send us their best ?" and conversely, "Do we send any other country our best ?"  Australia's history tells a story of disbanded and exported individuals whose personal history was somewhat sorted, at least by its own monarchy's point of view, and yet, they seem to have created a land of promise, fortitude and originality, and within that,  ab-origin-ality too.  Yes, this is digressive, but worthy of note, very worthy.     My clothing is soaked, from top to bottom. I carry my possessions over the shoulder. I am in a country that is not my own. I have little finances, neither a job, nor, a relative in town. I do not speak the language fluently. In essence, for this brief moment in time:  I am a Mexican in America. Now I am beginning to understand the beauty, the stoic and sometimes exhilarating aspects of searching to find something more. In this case, I am seeking to learn more about the border, it's realities, it's myths and it's challenges, while many of those among me, are looking for, a better job, some more income, possibly an opportunity, wether imagined or real. I drop off my clothes at the laundry. By the time I pick them up, an hour or so later, several locals are sitting on a couch, watching the television, which displays Mr. Donald Trump uttering the words, "…So help me God." Within a week, he has ordered the building of a wall, the closing of EPA protections and reopening an Oil Pipeline straight through America. My clothes are clean, my conscious is clear and my country is in trouble.
ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL Part One in a Series of Reports by J. A. TRILIEGI JANUARY 25, 2017 

ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL
Part One in a Series of Reports by J. A. TRILIEGI JANUARY 25, 2017 


All along the border, double fences topped with barbed wire, trail across the land like so many scars on the flesh of a beaten horse. Humans of all shape and size, age and color, wander on either side, like ants, gathering bits of this and that, simply to survive.  The border itself is well fortified. Giant steel posts thrust upwards in a multiple vertical fashion, cold, grey, metal, blocks of concrete and men with guns, stand on either side, they are doing time, they are doing their job, they are taking orders, by a government, by a policy and by a code of service, which may very well, hurt their families, their future and themselves. As for international relations, well, "We The People …," have got some real work to do. 


Rain trickles down, unlike finances, in abundance, on both sides of the border. Drops of  h2o feel the same from either side. This reporter walks across the great divide, entering simply to see, to observe, to experience and to meet the people of Mexico, or at least, the people of Baja California, which is not exactly, 'M - e - x - i - c - o,' in the same way that, Ellis island, is not exactly, 'A - m - e - r - i - c - a.'  And yet, there they are, offering this gringo a taxi ride to and fro. I am on a budget, no publisher or editor or local or national or international publisher would sponsor this sojourn, so I have travelled by bus, a simple twenty dollars from Downtown Los Angeles into Baja, and another 200 pesos, which is ten dollars, gets me into the tourist port town of Ensenada. A destination for the Princess Cruises. In olden day, frat boys, surfers, and tourists of all types descended upon this lovely destination in search of debauchery, coastal beauty and artifacts such as clothes, furniture, objects of value, offered, for much less than anywhere else. Decades of taking have left its mark on this locale, and yet, the new world, the world of technology. the world of commercial enterprise, the world of modern banking has emerged, and stands side by side with the ancient  world, we have mythologized about this great land, the land of the Maya and the Spanish Conquistador, mixed, long ago, to create this special race of people, we know as Mexicans and their country: Mexico. History tells us of a country that once sprawled much further north, into the continent that we, as Americans, now inhabit, California, Arizona New Mexico, Texas, etc…  The Southwest border states, where, we are now told, that a wall, will be built. As we drive south, over the first hurdle of hills into Ensenada, I can see a double fence, so high, that my eyes have trouble actually measuring its vertical height. Were I forced to estimate, I would guess that the swirling, jagged, barbed wire top sits at least some twenty or so feet in height ? As we drive up and over, I recall the early days of visits to Mexico, taking this same route, with my father, to see the bullfights, with my friends to Surf the coast, and as an artist, simply in search of something different in culture, lifestyle and respite. Since that time, I have been told, by my government, by my friends and by highly propagandized stories of struggle, anguish and fear of overlords, that this place is not safe to visit. 


The Western Coast and indeed, the California route from North to South, has a beauty, that is unrivaled and Baja California is no exception. Choose  any one mile section of Carmel or Big Sur or Malibu or Baja, and, you will find, they are identical. The earth, the flower, the fauna, the water, the light are all the same. Green valleys peppered with long stretches of two lane highways, merge into gold, rust and creme colored edges that jut downward into rocky cliffs, bays, full with blue, turquoise and white topped waves that careen into the coastal edge. I am on a tourist bus, for the first time in my life. I focus on the coast, as my fellow passengers watch some such film being projected on a television screen, mounted high above their heads. American actors faces dubbed into spanish incongruously describe a false drama that does not relate to the landscape of the earth, the coast, the real beauty of a continent that we share with others. We share this continent with more than one country, that is clear to me, the politics of borders and policies and current views, are not at all as clear as the very FACT, that We share this continent with others. 



The tour bus pulls into Ensenada proper, and already I can see a great indian past, the textures of Baja Mexico, are not at all unlike those of Rome or Tokyo or Bangladesh, the history is evident. The street corners, bus stop benches, and even the surface of the streets themselves speak to the viewer, "Where have you been and where are you going ?" I have no answer. I am seeking simply to see what is here now, and what I see are thousands of people walking to and from their homes, their jobs, their responsibilities to whomever and wherever and whatever. Then it comes to me, "Why I am here?"  Some time ago, I jokingly told a group of Mexican maids that if Mr. Donald Trump becomes the President of the United States of America, that I will be in Mexico on the day that this incident occurs, and so, I kept my promise, for in less than a day, this man will become the next President of our great country. 

Besides occupying my time as a Journalist of some fledgling notoriety, I also write literature of a varying style and length: Screenplays, Short Stories and a Novel, so far.  It comes to mind that many in the industry including, Matthew McConaghy, Matt Damon and Ryan Gosling, all very white men of some talent, are married to women with descendants of the latin variety, men whom derive from Texas, from Boston from Canada. A symbol of the sharing of this continent, we call, America. And still we are told that a wall will be built: A Wall. A fence guards against entry, a wall blocks ones view, in obscuring views, perception and reality can be manipulated, like blinders, does this new government wish to obscure our views of one another ? To block our vision ?  To control our vista's as well as our Visa's ? It appears so. The Great Wall of China, The Berlin Wall, Pink Floyd's song lyrics from 'The Wall,' explains something about this policy, that most likely, a scared white man in power is, "… Just Another Brick in The WALL."  


Like much of America, during the banking bailouts, some eight years ago, Mexico too has been pervaded by a proliferation of Banks. All over Mexico, young upwardly mobile individuals have been employed by this new modern system of checking and deposits, transfers and exchanges. A map of Mexico displays and amazingly flourishing economy of some sort, while on a near by television screen, an attractive young lady speaks excitingly about the new opportunities and services offered by this new technological wonder of modernity. Though this particular town has always had its own economy, and, long before these new technological advances gave them surveillance, invasions of privacy and the desecration of  anonymity, this little town had and still retains the old ways of knowing who is here, what they have with them and where they are going, with whom and why. The gained or earned - through - experience, survival skills, of any port or pirate town that, for over a hundred years, has found ways to survive its visitors, its inhabitants and even, it's conquistadors. In this particular case, the Indian past, sits side by side the technological future,  old world and new world meet, they make eye contact, they understand one another, they may even assist one another. 



Pacific Coast Highway is not Malibu, just as Santa Monica is not Los Angeles and Big Sur is not Northern California. Suffice it to say, that the Coastal Section of Ensenada is not Baja California, by any means. And certainly Baja as a whole, is not at all a representation of Mexico, though, it is safe to say, if you speak to individuals, a bank teller, a bus driver, a casual man or woman on the street, you are indeed talking to a real Mexican, with real human concerns about a very real world that they are living in. I check into my hotel, the room is roughly 12 US dollars and some change, laundry is washed, dried and folded just across the way for under a dollar, fresh food at the local market is priced as such that I find myself giving bags I have purchased for mine own, to those I meet along the way. The first evening passes quickly, rain whips through the town, the streets flooded with over a foot of water in the lower regions.


Inauguration day arrives without much fanfare here, the television in the hotel lobby displays little about Mr Trump. I am beginning to realize that, the populist of Mexico have already been prepared for this new leader, they understand that American Presidents and most likely all leaders of major powers in the world, then and now, are what they are, a symbol, a face, or, if we search for the latin derivative source: simply a Facade. One need only walk a mile or so east, to find that Mexico, is not unlike any other place in the California's. Middle class neighborhoods lined with houses on either side, one and a half cars per home, some folks living at a higher elevation in the upper middle class areas and those whom own businesses, land and expanses of property of all variety. It is much like any place in the world, some people have money and some people do not. We have heard the new American Presidents criticism's over the past year regarding this country,  its people,  its past, it's problems. Something comes to mind, as I walk through town, a question arises, " Does any Country in the world send us their best ?" and conversely, "Do we send any other country our best ?"  Australia's history tells a story of disbanded and exported individuals whose personal history was somewhat sorted, at least by its own monarchy's point of view, and yet, they seem to have created a land of promise, fortitude and originality, and within that,  ab-origin-ality too.  Yes, this is digressive, but worthy of note, very worthy. 


My clothing is soaked, from top to bottom. I carry my possessions over the shoulder. I am in a country that is not my own. I have little finances, neither a job, nor, a relative in town. I do not speak the language fluently. In essence, for this brief moment in time:  I am a Mexican in America. Now I am beginning to understand the beauty, the stoic and sometimes exhilarating aspects of searching to find something more. In this case, I am seeking to learn more about the border, it's realities, it's myths and it's challenges, while many of those among me, are looking for, a better job, some more income, possibly an opportunity, wether imagined or real. I drop off my clothes at the laundry. By the time I pick them up, an hour or so later, several locals are sitting on a couch, watching the television, which displays Mr. Donald Trump uttering the words, "…So help me God." Within a week, he has ordered the building of a wall, the closing of EPA protections and reopening an Oil Pipeline straight through America. My clothes are clean, my conscious is clear and my country is in trouble.  
     
             Part One in a Series of Reports by J. A. TRILIEGI  /  JANUARY 25, 2017


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FOR SALE YOUR PRIVACY: The ATT Scandal
by BUREAU of ARTS and CULTURE News / Writer J. A. TRILIEGI


Many of us, in the American populist, and in the press, those aware of the creeping invasion of privacy issues, that have blurred considerably, since 911, between church, between business and between state, regarding the public's privacy of communications and other related matters, concerning the sharing of information on Individuals with local, state and federal authorities, have been waiting for a fallout of some sort, to no avail. Most journalists have had a strong understanding of these issues and how they now pertain to, not just the firemen, policemen, highway patrol and the sheriff's department's sharing so-called, 'information,' about average, below average and above average Americans, in the name of 'Homeland Security,' all the while, dispersing funds, for the gathering of that information, to new and  poorly trained non professionals in departments as low level as Transit Authority and related businesses such as taxi's and other public transportations that connect people with airplanes, boats and ships. 


"There may have just been a crack in the wall, that someday soon, could lead to some brave Individual or Politician actually pushing that wall of invasive laws, originally passed for our safety, and now being used for profit, to the ground."


Now, at least things are out in the open with what is now commonly called, "PROJECT HEMISPHERE," [ link provided below ]. Many concerned have had their hands tied by The Patriot Act, which absolves the government from seeking prior permission to delve into our lives, at will, at whimsy, and or, any other false leads, that may be pointed at private individuals who may seek to stand firm in the actual American Constitution and or The Bill of Rights. There may have just been a crack in the wall, that someday soon, could lead to some brave Individual or Politician actually pushing that wall of invasive laws, originally passed for our safety, and now being used for profit, to the ground.  It has been reported recently, in The Daily Beast, [ link provided below]  that ATT is selling that private information for actual dollars, while we, the public, are paying them to provide an important communication service. Now the plot thickens as ATT wishes to purchase Time Warner which includes HBO, and CNN, just to name a few Companies listed under that umbrella. 


"The ideal vision of a world of one has now been easily manipulated into a Gossip Column of One, which wishes to bully, control, scare and manipulate individuals of any sort, who may speak their mind, expose the truth, make a difference, or dammit, just express themselves as AMERICANS."


The American public is in for a rude awakening as these corporations and companies slowly dissolve our privacy, while many Americans are too busy, either surviving, working, going to school, or worse, actually enjoying the mindless sharing of information, cooperating with this surveillance game, about their neighbors, their workmates and their representatives, that it appears as if CONFORMITY, by those in power and those with none at all, see this game as something that they might be able to utilize. Anybody with long term goals, anybody with a sense of history, anybody with a moral compass not being pointed directly at anyone else, except themselves, can see the problems here. The ideal vision of a world of one has now been easily manipulated into a Gossip Column of One, which wishes to bully, control, scare and manipulate individuals of any sort, who may speak their mind, expose the truth, make a difference, or dammit, just express themselves as AMERICANS. This is extremely complicated territory we are now treading. 


"Everyday people are now mimicking an absolute device which does nothing but attempt to manipulate individuals, by any such group of people, be it, the government, a corporation, a church, an ethnic or religious affiliation or even a simple neighborhood."


A good many American professionals, employed at News Media Outlets, Film Studios, Music Industries, Publishing Entities and Communication Companies have been privy to the issues for quite some time. The employees were hired, trained and explained directly, post 911, how, why and what this new game was all about. instead of opposing the initial exposure of information, they decided, on one level or another, that cooperating with the US Government and its new stance was optimum. We saw this, through the years during wartime, we saw this again, during the cold war and we are now seeing it in the every day populist. Everyday people are now mimicking an absolute device which does nothing but attempt to manipulate individuals, by any such group of people, be it, the government, a corporation, a church, an ethnic or religious affiliation or even a simple neighborhood. If it were not so actual, so real, so concrete , from top to bottom, it might actually make a good book, film or television show, and plenty have indeed reflected this state, unfortunately,  the actual reality of the matter, is astounding fatal. People thought it was cool to 'know,' something about another. The celebrity aspect of 'inquiring minds wanting to know', now entirely bastardized and spread like mud across our Rights as American Citizen's from the bottom of boots which no longer are there to protect us, but there to cajole, interfere and tamper with our ability to create original works of Art, original works of Literature, original works of Cinema, original works of Legislation, original works of Fashion, original Works of  Any Sort, is completely jeopardized by anyone who can 'BUY,' our communications, invade our desktops and use their authority and or their position within a Company or University or Government to block newcomers, harass independents, provoke individuals and retain a position within an industry or workplace or a place of higher learning.  

"But now, with  ATT Selling Your Information for Profit, and with the new acquisition proposal and desire to purchase Time/Warner, the entire careers of individuals, rates and the quality of products and services, the downsizing of our entire Entertainment, News and Media Companies is looking, with any foresight, like a dreaded future, where only those who are established will survive and everyone else, in the middle and below, will not even have a chance."

The worlds where I have spent my entire life working, studying and formulating are now, different altogether, than they once were. Film Studios, Art Galleries, Publishing Houses, News and Media Outlets all have used, in one way or another, this new information age to their advantage, we cannot blame them, the economy rules their existence and that allowed for this invasion of privacy, to spread as it has. But now, with  ATT Selling Your Information for Profit, and with the new acquisition proposal and desire to purchase Time/Warner, the entire careers of individuals, rates and the quality of products and services, the downsizing of our entire Entertainment, News and Media Companies is looking, with any foresight, like a dreaded future, where only those who are established will survive and everyone else, in the middle and below, will not even have a chance. In the Cinema Arts it means that there will be few new discoveries, people like Richard Linklater, Spike Lee and even Spike Jonze, who all started with relatively quirky and original works, will most likely work at a limited level of success, budgets and distribution, if at all. In the world of Fine Arts, more and more, new painters, such as the late Jean Michel Basquiat, will most likely, go undiscovered. Or, and this has already developed, they will be supported only by their group, their school, their race or their religious affiliation. The same goes for Literature, new authors will fall to the wayside, The Colson Whithead's, The Zadie Smith's, and yes, The Joshua Triliegi's will not be discovered, published, reviewed, or given a career span that fine art, cinema and literature demand.  Not to mention what this means to the youth of America. 


"You are an AMERICAN and you as an individual, do matter. You matter, when you are kind to one another, you matter when you mind our own business, you matter when race, income and religion have no influence on your daily exchanges with one another, you matter when you do NOT cooperate with Invasion of Privacy games that, at first appeared powerful, profitable and acceptable, but now lay before us, weak, manipulative, bogus and downright no damn good. "

This is a clear and present danger that screams, loudly, and rather succinct that you as an Individual mean absolutely nothing at all. Well, This writer is here to say that the opposite is TRUE. You are an AMERICAN and you as an individual, do matter. You matter, when you are kind to one another, you matter when you mind our own business, you matter when race, income and religion have no influence on your daily exchanges with one another, you matter when you do NOT cooperate with Invasion of Privacy games that, at first appeared powerful, profitable and acceptable, but now lay before us, weak, manipulative, bogus and downright no damn good. It  is high time for Americans to rethink their relationship with that little communication device that has become so near and dear: your cell phone. Which causes brain defects in children, has damaged the natural order of insects, obstructing the natural pollination your food, and now, you are being duped into paying for a personal  communication device, which Your Private Information is being SOLD to Agencies and Entities for a Profit. If the entire matter were not so absurd, it might actually be interesting.  The fact, quite obviously is, there is no easy way out, It is the Vietnam of our Era, and, it took us a few decades to arrive, most likely, it will take us that many to alleviate.  You have a car, you have a cell phone, a celebrity retweeted your tweet, a world of One. Lets face it, Americans are constantly being manipulated by the two governing political parties, who sold us out to Big Medicine Companies several decades ago, they sold us to Big Banks eight years ago, and without noticing, we've now been sold to Big Communication Companies, if we, as a solid and unified group of Human Beings living in North America do not take charge of our direct relationship of representatives, besides the four year carnival we now call The Presidency, than what will be left of America ? What will be left for the next generations ? Of course,  sarcastically speaking, if you are someone who cares more about the question "What did Joshua Triliegi watch on-line last night ?"  Than, it appears, I just waisted your time, with relevant questions, that actually, concern, your future.  So, then, you pick up your phone, and, your important, you don't have to worry, it's ok, you heard that ATT was hiring. And, you just sold out… Or, You Fought back.

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