Our Israeli correspondent MC has some thoughts about the current occupant of the White Palace House and the country he purports to rule.

The Twilight Zone of King Barry the First
by MC

Now the day is over.
Night is drawing nigh.
Shadows of darkening tyranny
Steal across the sky.

It is twilight, but the curtains are pulled and the light is burning bright. We sit clustered around a 42-inch panel that flickers with bright colours and emits soothing noises.

In the gathering dusk the forces of perpetual darkness are gathering, openly and unchallenged. It is not our job to challenge them; that is somebody else’s job.

The 42-inch panel continues to send its subliminal messages: All is well, all is calm, all is bright, the President is in control, all is well, all is calm all is bright.

The law of the land is based upon the Constitution, the Constitution that limits the power of government to transform itself into a tyranny.

But the Constitution has a weak point, which those stalwart fathers of the Republic could not foresee: they could not imagine that technology could continue to the point where We the People would pay homage only to a 42-inch panel. In their day, everyone was up to date; the men all wore powdered wigs. Mass mind control at the end of remote beam was totally beyond their ken.

“Knowing the power of panels to control the minds of the people; States shall let neither political party or politicians, religious groups or quasi-legal entities have access to, or control of, the transmission of media to panel systems without a clear and open statement of mind-control objectives.” (Proposal for new amendment to the Constitution).

The amendment was thrown out by the Blue Party, citing that each panel has an off button, and that the people are well qualified to use it. We (the Blue Party) are a pro-choice party: people should be free to live life as they choose.

So we, the people, absorb the sweetness of the panel, ignoring the gathering gloom outside the front door.

We know about nuclear warfare, we know about Biological warfare, we know about chemical warfare, and we even know a bit about economic warfare.

Now what do we know about the warfare of the mind? not much. It is a social form of warfare where a vulnerable mind is intensely bombarded with memes, so that for almost every waking moment there is a meme.

Memes are presented by acceptable delivery systems, from the simple picture poster and script on the subway or on the side of a bus, to the complex messages portrayed on the television; embedded in sitcoms and sports programs.

Simple pictures, re-enforcing complex motifs selling a story; the advertisers have been doing it for many years. It works for Tasters Choice, so why should it not work for King Barry I?

Have we ever looked at visual media as a weapon of the second American Revolution? Have we underestimated the power of the pixel to so flummox the citizen to the point of rendering him mentally incapacitated and unable to defend himself?

Inert and unthinking they trek home to their television and their computer, watching their smartphone on the bus or the train, their brains sucking up mind poison as they are told how to behave, how to think, how to react.

The Redcoats are coming — nah, they are already here, we buy them at the phone shop or the department store. We connect to them. We watch them. We listen to them. We learn what they have to tell us, whether we want to or not.

What is it that they have to tell us, show us and entertain us, mind candy which causes mental cholesterol, clogging our neurons so they don’t recognise the threat, dumbing us down so we don’t need to think, increasing the level of addiction so that the thought of missing the next episode is unacceptable?

So the great unwashed become the great mind scrubbed-masses, a docile electorate ready to do what they are told, and vote where they are pointed.

Long live Caliph Barry! Saviour of fainting females, fakir of the American mind, issuer of telephony fatwas and tacky taqiyya. Defender of the Muslim Brotherhood, Grand Mufti of the Washington Beltway, Imam of the All-American Golf Course, Master of Martha’s Vineyard Michelle’s meagre meals.

Open your eyes people: where do the hand-outs come from? Who is going to pay? What happens when the money runs out?

Once it is dark outside, there is no longer any hope. Slowly the panels go blank and the lights go out, the cards don’t work any more, and the food stamps don’t buy anything because there is nothing to buy, the shelves are empty because the farmers can’t afford to farm, the fishermen to fish, and the Ranchers to ranch. But there is plenty of gas at the pumps.

And there is food at the Church Mosque, for those willing to convert…