We live in perilous times. Those sworn to protect us, betray us. Those set apart to foment dissent are too frightened to stand against the tide for fear of drowning; and so all the rest of us are left to perish, withering in the plains, dissolving along the plattes — but never resuscitating in the pinnacles — and so we are forever, longingly, tripping into the pits of the Uncanny Valley.

We have been fooled by the Uncanny Valley because unreality has become a fact — but never a truth — and the machinations of a reality television show are now an unreal version of government mired in perilous, and purposeful, self-destruction.

We arrived at this terrible place through apathy, and stricture, and the absolute narrowing of minds in theory instead of a steady tempering in direct experience.

It’s easy to hate from afar, but when the object of your hatred is your neighbor, or your child’s best friend, or a business that you rely upon for the living of your life, you slowly begin to realize we are all interconnected, and dependent upon each other; and to disassociate, and cleave, and hate, only ruins us with an inside rotting, while the object of our hatred is blissfully unaware of the uninvited wrath we are wishing to unleash.

Distance is now palpable in every aspect of our lives. We are strangers to everyone. Community is electronic. We live the light of our lives in the power grid instead of in the shine of the eyes from those we love and respect.

The only way to recover, as a nation, and as embedded friends, is to disavow the Uncanny Valley that has become us, and to tear down the invisible walls, and then reveal the creepers, and the puppet masters, and force fakery back into the realm of imagination, and wanting, and not as the standard apathy of the day.

That sort of reconciliation will take time, and stamina — we have to reset what we know and how we intend to share it — and science, and logic, will have to rule our day instead of rue-in-ing it; but that doesn’t mean we lose our faith or our fascinations, but we can no longer tolerate one second more of tainting the blatant lie as the truth.

When one group of people achieve power through deception and the lie — it is the duty of the media, and of every commoner, and of every elitist — to stop the lie in its tracks, and to not report it as anything revelatory, or in situ; yes, those who lie to us with purpose, and perfection, deserve only our hatred, and not the benefit of us being pressure-played into pretending to be fair by reporting their deception as an equal of a provable truth.

When there is money to be made in the falsehood, we have to vote with wallet, mind, and soul to disavow any trickery crafted to separate us from our shared safety — and the invented crisis is the hallmark foundation of those tripping us into the Uncanny Valley — the only question remaining is will we be smart enough, and brave enough, and quick enough, to recognize the fall as it is happening in real time?

If we are not alert, and prospective, then the uncanny becomes canary, and death becomes life, a lie is the truth, and we’ve always been a free and kind people.

Then, we’re forged, for once the unfact has been perpetrated, and codified, in the vested evening news, there’s no escaping the assailable crumbling of the pinned untruth that now sits — pristine, and unblinking — as a provable fact beyond the canny and the dead canary.

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