Dear George,
Let us talk about change. Let us cheer change; tout change; and praise change as divinely ordained destiny. (Between us boys, we all know there no such thing as destiny, but only blind momentum driven by ego, greed and stupidity.)
However, even as we sing change’s praises, let us be clear about the type of change of which we sing. The change we love, the change we bow down before, the change that sets our hormones aflickering, is regressive change. We must marginalize progressive change, which is merely arid smoke being sucked through society’s asshole.
Regressive change is a return to the solid rock of tradition, to that glorious time of yesteryear when wealth ruled and the downtrodden stayed downtrodden, happy in the proletarian simplicity of their tenements. It was a time when the happy poor would break into song and dance at the drop of a hat as documented in many of the movies churned out by Hollywood in the forties and fifties.
Progressive change drives a society into a quagmire of mayhem and turmoil. It would weigh down our hierarchy with the fetters of regulation, even as it demands that they behave in a responsible manner.
No nation can prosper if it cares about the common welfare. Hunger and poverty fertilize prosperity, which feeds on suffering, even as it denies its repressiveness, claiming that it cares about the common welfare it treats with contempt.
Belief in a delusional destiny is the lifeblood of our oligarchy.
Progressive change is death and decay; regressive change is life, itself.
Your admirer,
Belacqua Jones
4:56:27 AM 
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