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of course there's apathy. Nothing ever happens. It's this homeostatic presure of law and money keeping things exactly as they alway have been. if the goal of go is always to take as much territory as possible, of course the same patterns will continue to appear in games played now, games played 1000 years ago and games 1000 years from now. the stones on the board can lament the atari, wish that it might be some other way. why does being surrounded mean i have to die? why did i have to be placed in such a place where being surrounded was my fate. the player sacrificing a piece here to gain 2 points of teritory after the skirmish. the systems piss me off, and have pissed me off so long that it's hard to be worked up about it. the rage of resentment doesn't grow forever it seems. it builds and then after time it becomes the comfortable present condition. the rage is there, but it's there the way pink noise might be. initially quite noticable. perhaps offputting, but with exposure it isn't just tuned out, it's comforting. frustration at impotence fades and a gradual acceptance of ineptitude, then on the horizon the looming scrounging to eek out a hovel in the dirt a space in the landscape of rage with that inability to do anything about it as a foundation. and before long another brick in the wall is mortared into place. it divides people. this thing. it facilitates squabbles over truely pointless nothings. the halucination boxes have accelerated and focused these niggles and the masses rage. rage. rage. the silent majority have already grown so tired of the endless bickering. the truely silent. it is taking so much effort to take another step in this direction. to still say i resist. /\ /\ ___ / \ / \ \ / \ / \_______ \ / \ / \/ \/ i can't even be pissed at the news anymore. rather. i can't even take the news seriously. i can't believe this nonsense is real. I wake up, walk outside and nothing has changed. I talk to neighbors, and nothing has changed. I go to the stores, and nothing has changed. That same looming anxiety at the fabricated fiction of the phyiscal world pervades, and I have become numb to it. I can even wear my shoes in public now. I can enter a store and tho I feel I could be shot for no reason at any point... I just can't seem to give a shit. how would I be able to change any of it? No one cares that I look the way I do, that I dress the way I do, that I act the way I do, that I go the places I go. The same false smiles are ever present. The same classic music plays on the speakers, nirvana, cold play, guns and roses, cyndi lauper. time after time. i must drag myself to say anything. i've already said everything, and i hate repeating myself, and since the options are to either begin to say things i hate or to say what i have said already again... but there is some, little, point in reiteration, thus i must drag myself from time to time, until the cycle reaches the buildup again, until i am compelled to say again everything i have said before again. again. again. little loops make bigger loops, and maybe after another 3 or 4 of my longer term loops have ended a turn in the all encompassing loop will finally after 10000 years, move on. cope. placating, hypnotizing cope. nothing changes. the yellow dogs will fight the brown dogs, killing on both sides. and the vultures, who instigated the fighting in the first place, plucking at the tail of one dog, whose color not even they care to remember, will swoop down and feast on the fallen. resisting means ignoring the gadflys. resisting means not feeding the beast. fasting. drinking only tea and water. .