The Orchestrated Mess

A short story about an amazing mess and the inevitable clean-up, as the show must go on.

The Uncivil Mess of the Masses

The people in the land were afraid of the future and what it would bring to them and their civilization. Even calling it a civilization was a stretch, considering the uncivil way many people were behaving within it.

What most of the citizens and strangers in the land didn’t know was how everything was being orchestrated; the purpose of the orchestration was to create a certain amount of chaos from which order would then be applied.

Like sanding and scrapping the old paint off a building and applying primer and new coats upon it for revitalization, the trillionaire elitists were working their plans into the societies beneath their illustrious purview.

Most people couldn’t imagine having millions of dollars, much less billions or trillions at their disposal. The type of perceptions this brings of the world are much different than they could reasonably perceive, even among the most imaginative.

One would suppose those who had the most money and wealth were the most benevolent, yet they couldn’t suppose they were actually the most diabolical. Perhaps, the collection of such a large amount of money was evidence of their character in the first place.

For instance, if one were so inclined to be the richest of the rich, they may just devise ways to create wealth and money out of thin air. They may concoct ways to control the money supply of every country so they could orchestrate their societies and the ultimate direction of the world.

Of course, this is deemed conspiracy theory to the plebeians, as they go about like lemmings fulfilling the predictions of the same ruling elite. All the while perceiving themselves as individuals living in freedom. The more oppressed they are in reality, the more they believe they are free.

Eventually, the orchestrated mess will need to be cleaned up with an orchestrated cleaning solution. Mr. Clean may just be represented in the type of order that now provokes the mainstream masses into bits of frenzy and lunacy. Their programming triggered and their rational brains reaching meltdown status at the thought of admitting they were fooled or at least wrong with their former convictions.

No matter, the hive mind will find ample validation within the controlled opposition, including organic simpletons who are ignorant of their enemy and paid agents of change that plod along like mindless robots to complete their master’s wishes.

Yes, the hive mind will change its tune, as the orchestrated mess turns the corner on doom and gloom, reaching the frenzy of chaotic ecstasy and blowing their steam in clouds of idiotic rage and fury. The nonsensical bird-brained followers of madness will find a wall of reason they can’t surmount with flimsy fantasies learned in expensive academic settings under the tutelage of aspiring Marxists wearing faces of melancholic indignation.

Hateful Justifications

The fruitless gasps of raging sorrow will bellow through the gates of hollow understandings, as the hive mind changes its programming, thus reprogramming the lemmings into pathways of understanding formerly vehemently fought against with tears of dreadful tomorrows — with the knowing it is all their fault, them, those people, the ones who the big mind has pointed out to hate with an everlasting all.

As such, the tunes will switch, the faces will twitch, and the orchestrated mess will transform into an orchestrated solution, of course, just in the nick of time; like an action-packed movie, the vexed society of woe will find the solace of a contrived new script to placate their needful unaccountability; yes, it’s now their fault, those that the others have pointed out, the villains of the next scene, and those who say otherwise will be fired off the set.

Nonetheless, the masses were no better for the turnaround, as the former plight was about to break through the mind control into a natural and organic reality — the one they all longed for beyond their programmed and enraged minds full of goo and twisted righteousness.

Still, the stoic believers in the truth reserved themselves from playing the game. The orchestrated set didn’t commission them into the fray and they were ill-disposed to volunteer their energies and beliefs into such a scam. They remained free and beyond the reach of the hive mind collective, albeit vexed by the inability to convince anyone of their particular viewpoints.

The crap show would go on with eternal implications. With such money and power, the orchestrated scenes of deception would continue with the false tune of progress as their mindless mantra. They and theirs were going somewhere indeed, a lasting peace awaited after the chaotic storms were provoked with the best intentions hate could muster.

As those wonderfully flocked dunderheads would exclaim with disdain for the uninitiated, “the end justifies the means.” Of course, dear bald-headed snake men, whatever you say, or is it whatever you don’t say?

In moments of now, the present chaos was aptly called a mess; what a fine and wonderful mess it was. In fact, it was the best mess trillions of dollars of money made from nothing could buy. Even the plebeians could concur, the mess was indeed pure and very much called for something special to follow its lofty status of memorable doom.

What this next move from the shakers may be, the society longed to know in bits of clarity beyond the hive mind programming. Inevitably, they will find out in between their ever-intensifying stimulus distractions, and then my friend, they will know it all, even more than before — the know it all will reach gargantuan proportions while the rarity of finding anyone who knows anything will be truly magnified with every progressive status achieved in vain.

The messy show must go on.