Yeah, sure...

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This is not creepy at all...




And neither was this:



Because, you know, nothing says rules-based international order^TM and speaks for the "open character of international institutions based on universal values and transparency," like an €8 million bunker for "secret talks."



But what do I know?

If you ask me, the whole thing seems like an exercise in futility.



I mean, everyone knows that should anyone have any desire to find out what is being said during those "secrets talks," all one needs to do is ask the Danes. Or the Poles.

— 🌿 —
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Greetings, citizen

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Congratulations, citizen!

Being a citizen of Alpha Complex is fun. Facebook says so, and Facebook is your friend.

Due to your properly zealous attitude you’ve been chosen as happiness officer. This is a great honor. Only those who know the true joy of being an Alpha Complex citizen are appointed happiness officer. Your selection shows Facebook’s exceptional faith in you.

To help in early detection of SSM (Sub-Standard Morale), HPD&MC has made up a list of the warning signs of SSM Breakdown. Briefing officers should go over these warning signs with newly appointed happiness officers. The fate of Alpha Complex depends on it.

Does the citizen in question:

1. Argue Excessively?

2. Disregard or question the team leader's orders?

3. Suffer from insomnia?

4. Not laugh at the happiness officer's joke?

5. Refuse to participate in the group singalongs?

6. Have a pouty puss?

7. Refuse to take Personality Stabilizer Drugs?

8. Show a definite lack of faith in Facebook's judgement?

9. Whine a lot?

Any one of the above symptoms (including those not listed above) is grounds for immediate Personality Adjustment. Sub-Standard Morale manifests in many other ways too. An experienced happiness officer learns to recognize SSM in all its forms.

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Imagine a world designed by Kafka, Stalin, Orwell, Huxley, Sartre and the Marx Brothers...

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—or the DNC?

Thus did—and did not (I kid the DNC!)—begin the back cover of the 1987 second edition of Paranoia RPG rulebook.

We live in interesting times, and it is an interesting and most fitting time indeed for the release of the first game console official adaptation of the classic dystopian science-fiction tabletop role-playing game first published in 1984 by West End Games





As I said: I kid the DNC.

But then again, "If the shoe fits...," as the saying goes...

May I pour the gentleman another drink?

Why, yes, sir, the 80's have been called the "great decade." This is not for me to say—I'll take the gentleman's word for it.



As for the 90's, well, according to some records, such as the History Channel, I have heard the decade referred to as the "good decade."



But this was then.

And this...

Well, this is "now," sir.

What a difference four decades make.  Thirty-nine little years...

What gave?

I am not sure, sir.

Innocence lost?

There are those who say, it was a slow process and that it had all begun already in those "great" and "good" decades, of which the gentleman speaks, and that people just didn't know better.

Then again, there are those who say that it all began after Bush v. Gore, 531 U.S. 98 (2000).

Others say it all happened in a flash after September 11, 2001. Because after 911, "everything  changed."

As I said, sir, I wouldn't know. Whilst I might have been acquainted with the eras of which the gentleman speaks, and many of those memorable personalities of the times, I might even have met in person, I do not judge, sir—why, I would never presume. I only pour the drinks and refill people's glasses when they want a new drink—or even, at times, when, they may think they don't want a new drink, but are really desperately in need of a new drink. How would I know? Why, sir, I just know. It is my job to know about such things. Those are the things I know about. I make no pretense of sociopolitical knowledge, sir.

But I get it...



I have heard the argument before, and the gentleman will correct me if I am remembering this inaccurately, that "there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know," and then "there are also unknown unknowns—the ones we don't know we don't know. "

But seriously, now...

Let me ask you:

Would you buy a used car from this man?

Rep. Adam Schiff, I mean.



A visitor of the Wulfshead, a social theorist if I recall correctly, once pointed out to me that, beyond former secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld's February 12, 2002 infamous three categories statement, there is a fourth category, which the secretary omitted in his newsbriefing, "the unknown known," sir, that which we intentionally refuse to acknowledge that we know. History has shown—collective History, with a big H, sir, not just US history—that the main dangers to nations, and truly, the species at large, lie in the "unknown knowns—in the visitor's words: "the disavowed beliefs, suppositions and obscene practices we pretend not to know about, even though they form the background of our public values."

But, as I said, sir, this was then...

This is now:



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Don't Be Alarmed!

Meanwhile...in Washington.


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SECURITY CLEARANCE

INFRARED—
CLEARED FOR ALL CITIZENS



TRUST GOOGLE! GOOGLE IS YOUR FRIEND!
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Alas, poor Solveig . . .

Perhaps, it was this:



Who knows?



Hard to tell.



Some networks reward them with badges.



But clearly the practice predates the World Wide Web.


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The Doctor is in

Be afraid, be very afraid.

The poster below was contributed by one contender in the poster contest organized on Ah, Shoot, via Michelle Malkin, encouraging readers to see what kind of posters they can come up with in order to highlight the perils of "President Obama’s takeover" of the healthcare industry.

WARNING: This one is not for the faint of heart:


The participant feels that through such efforts perhaps–just perhaps–enough people will begin to understand the concerns that are being raised.

Just imagine the horror of it all:


Good folks, lock up your sons and daughters...


I wonder if this is how "Obama is planning to kill grandpa"...



Obama, Obama, he's very bad indeed.


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Now you've gone and Donne it

Whoever guesses, thinks, or dreams, he knows
Who is my mistress, wither by this curse ;
Him, only for his purse
May some dull whore to love dispose,
And then yield unto all that are his foes ;
May he be scorn'd by one, whom all else avoid,
Forswear all bitters spoken from his hyoid
With fear of missing, shame of getting, as I, paranoid.

With apologies to the master.
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YOU ARE IN ERROR

THERE IS NOTHING UNUSUAL ABOUT THE WAITRESS.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION.



If I may say so, sir, the gentleman from Seattle is really not helping with comments such as this:



Why, there are patrons, here, of an impressionable nature, who might get...ideas...



If you know, what I mean, sir.

Besides, we wouldn't want some our most recent visitors to get the wrong idea . . .


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I am sorry, sir . . .

. . . but the gentleman from Seattle must be mistaken.

Let me assure the gentleman that we do not have any cellar, here.

My understanding is that the club keeps its stock in a pocket dimension attached to the bar by a hyperdimensional link.

And before the gentleman asks: no, the gentleman won't find any attic, either.

Nothing below, and nothing above, sir.

The simple truth is that there is nothing beyond the fourteenth floor of The Wulfshead, sir.
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I thought you'd never ask

Pray tell.
Who's that girl
Running around with you?




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Who Knows?

This was then.

This is now—the dawn of a new age:

We know better, now!

Or do we?

Daniel Pinchbeck doesn't know:

Recently, I have taken as my personal mantra the not very transcendent phrase, “I don’t know.” The list of things I feel unsure about seems to be steadily increasing. For instance, I don’t know if our solipsistic species will survive much longer, and sometimes I am not even sure how much I care. I don’t know if Barack Obama is a warm-hearted leader who will unite people at a time of adversity, or the most brilliant puppet ever put forth by the New World Order conspirators (who, as radio journalist and documentary filmmaker Alex Jones suggests, may be plotting a program of rapid depopulation). I don’t know if the increase in UFO sightings means we are approaching a benevolent contact experience or a horrific predatory ambush. I don’t know if global warming is mainly caused by human action, or if it is part of a phase transition of the entire solar system, as the Russian scientist Dmitriev proposes. I don’t know if men and women should be monogamous or if it is better to be bonobo-like in one’s erotic habits. I don’t know if we will develop some type of new energy technology that will rescue us from Peak Oil, or if we are destined to see industrial civilization devolve and disintegrate as fossil fuel becomes scarce. I don’t know whether to learn to grow food and harvest rainwater or to master some weird new esoteric discipline like Vortex Healing or Keylontic Science. I don’t know if free will exists, or if we are conditioned robots, performing an illusory spectacle scripted by Hindu deities or dreamtime ancestors. I don’t know if we should get rid of religions or create a really cool new one. I don’t know whether to stockpile gold or create an intentional community. I don’t know whether to stay in Manhattan or head for the hills. I don’t know whether we are approaching global enlightenment or regressing into barbarism. I don’t know whether biotechnology and nanotechnology will fuse to give us immortal physical bodies or if we will all croak as our mistreated planet falls apart. I don’t know if anything special will happen on December 21, 2012. I don’t know if I should start a riot or throw a party. I don’t know whether to panic or relax. More Here: The Age of Uncertainty Daniel Pinchbeck is the author of Breaking Open the Head: A Psychedelic Journey into the Heart of Contemporary Shamanism (Broadway Books, 2002) and 2012: The Return of Quetzalcoatl (Tarcher/Penguin, 2006). His features have appeared in The New York Times Magazine, Rolling Stone, Esquire, Wired and many other publications.

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Sir?

But certainly, sir.

Coming right up, sir. Sorry about the time lag. It comes with the territory, I am afraid. It's not all that bad, really. Something about the nature of the place, they say. You'll get used to it. Sometimes it works the other way around and patrons are served their drinks before they have even ordered them.

Is that so? How do you mean that, sir?
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