Table of Contents
JM White
The language went first. We went from sensible, balanced reporting to explosive language which has no real meaning. Now we no longer get estimates, we get ‘computer modelling’ and ‘record numbers’. A virus doesn’t mutate, it ‘super’ mutates. Ballistic missiles are ‘unleashed’ like dogs – not fired. Fans don’t cheer or boo, they ‘fume’ like borer bombs, or ‘trample’ each other like stampeding buffalo. We no longer get fines, we are ‘hit’ with them. People don’t answer or comment – they ‘fire’ back or ‘bite’ back, and baby tortoises and chickens are now ‘born’, not hatched. We get cracked down upon, locked up, woken, cancelled, or doxxed. We are bruised, battered, apprehensive and timid, and now we are being astroturfed.
Do you know what astroturf is? Looks like grass. Feels like grass. Green like grass to complete the illusion. Best of all, it doesn’t need cutting, it won’t die in a drought, weeds won’t grow in it, dogs can’t dig in it, and it is one hundred per cent recyclable. It was invented in 1965 by none other than our chemical friend Monsanto. It’s better in every way than that other grass that just looks like Astroturf.
People astroturf themselves as well. Women enlarge their breasts (making smaller doesn’t count) and for some reason unknown to yours truly, they enlarge their buttocks to carthorse size but without the corresponding strength of leg thus losing both beauty and utility.
They regularly refresh their virginity. Male and female both get surgeons to tuck wrinkles behind their ears, thicken their hair, enlarge their eyes, put teeth back into gums where previous teeth have rotted out, botox their lips so they look like a landed codfish, and even insert muscle displays where muscles have never been before, which leads to many other things too delicate to mention here.
Suffice to say, if it can be done, it will be done and probably has been done albeit on the quiet, often leading to unintended consequences, like the little lady in the next paragraph.
Thus it came about, as it must, that a young woman who had spent a small fortune being made beautiful married a handsome businessman and in due course, they had a child. The infant was of such startling ugliness that the businessman demanded a divorce, insisting the child was not his, and that his wife was guilty of shenanigans with another man. He never asked himself why such a beautiful woman would want to shenanigan with a man of surpassing ugliness and even worse, to have a child with him. He was adamant, he wanted a divorce.
Eventually, the poor wife had to admit to astroturfing herself – and there the story ended. She was a product of astroturfing but the poor infant was the genuine article, the product of them both, and nowhere near as good. This augurs ill for the little one in the future. The simple, medieval belief that fairies could leave a changeling in the cradle was an infinitely better way to keep married couples happily together and it is ever a pity the fairies got pushed out by the plastic surgeons.
Nowadays people seem to prefer the synthetic over the real, especially if it brings them admiration and wealth, and this in its turn has led to the phenomenon sweeping the western world right now. If you are a boy and want to be a girl, you can have surgery to obtain girlish things, and vice versa for a girl who wants to be a boy.
Not only are boys and girls astroturfing themselves right down to the X and Y chromosomes, they demand that you astroturf yourself for them as well. Heaven help you if you insist that the six foot two, built like a heavyweight boxing champion, with a prominent adam’s apple, is a man. If he SAYS he is a girl, you must not only agree, you must become part of the illusion.
For apex astroturfing you must BELIEVE he is a girl.
Not that he would physically enforce your agreement that he is a girl because that’s not what girls do. What would happen to you would be far, far, worse. You will be cracked down upon, locked up, cancelled, and doxxed, sacked, abused, ridiculed and laughed at as a newly minted heretic, and if you don’t get woke, as the saying goes, you will find yourself in short shrift living in your new home on the side of the footpath.
