To Grasp the Sheer Volume of Media Excess

I ride steadily the torrent of saturated noise and electronic debris, peering ahead into the vastness of the vacuum the river creates in its path, observing from this vantage point the utter strangeness and intoxicating exhilaration of the rush opening up before me.

A wild glimpse of the future-present of Now! Civilization: choking, lurching, thrusting its collective mind into the quagmire of digitalized stimulation, a never-ending, always on filtering and splintering that shapes the evolving mediascape. This otherworldly mental region, a stark, horrific beauty – haunting, seductive, compulsive – it just simply takes your breath away…

I continue my turbulent ride on the torrent wave, embedded in the immensity of disinformation & messaging & nonsensical meanderings, overwhelmed by the tributaries of never-ending cycles of swirling intrigue, – that is the effects of XTreme TRUMPology – a raw human excess that ebbs and flows over and under the winding channel of the river of noise, tainting everything and everyone in its inevitable path of ruin, eroding whatever truth+reality may have preceded the flow along the way.

The powerful excess of the media intake: hungry and ravenous, an angry churning that cascades and infiltrates the bunker, rendering me numb as I attempt to embrace and absorb the contamination at high velocity. Futile. All futile… to grasp the sheer volume of the excess.

Where is this river taking me? Is it even possible to know? Somewhere far, far beyond the real, whatever sense of normalcy I may have once contemplated, that’s for sure. Am I doomed to slowly, gradually, sink to the bottom of this excess down into an ever-deepening channel of frothy electronic particles?

… to what end, to what dark, coagulated place are we going?