Mr. President, it’s not your opposing party pressuring politicians and the people to persistently plead for the publication of pedophile propaganda, it’s the punk-ass police! The Feds aren’t your friend, sir. Persuasion isn’t particularly complicated for the conspirators who control the country’s communications. The tender tyrants both tell and track what’s trending, and telling folks how to feel is the first move of the fools’ finessing fixation. Piquing interest and provoking passion with persistent pleas for public involvement in problems that the country’s citizens can’t control is empowering to everybody who is easily egged on. Yes, that’s sarcasm. In a democracy, voters feel validated when their voices are heard. And giving wishers what they want, even if they were manipulated into making up their minds to match what the manipulators want, is as satisfying to them as the simple sound of sand being squished in a short social media video. If this Epstein episode would have started with spotlighting the sad stories of the sicko’s alleged victims, I wouldn’t have suggested that the situation is suspicious and its soundness is somewhat shaky. And now that the fearless females who fought for their freedom are the focal point of this fiasco, I’m convinced that the country’s most crooked cops couldn’t care less about them—the cops only care about criminalizing the country’s commander in chief. This catastrophe is a clear crapshoot with no certain conclusion. In my opinion, many men’s names will make it to the media, and some will shock and surprise and succeed in scandalizing the scandal. Nonetheless, other than gaslighting the gullible and garnering hatred for the Don, I believe that this Epstein episode is for entertainment purposes only. Who knows why these weak-ass weirdos work so hard to wreak havoc and wreck homes, but their massive misery must make their minds mush. Anyhoo, Rainn Wilson and Seth Meyers (allegedly), welcome to the party, pals! And to the Jimmys who’re the lords of late-night laughs (allegedly), what’s good, fools? Continuing to cast celebrities in this cartoonish conspiracy to combat my consciousness, and to take a crack at covering up the cover-up, is crazy. By being blatant and bold with their bullshit, the bitch-ass badge boys are basically begging for me to believe that they can’t be beat. Let’s get this straight, shall we? Again, I’ll keep it simple. So, if you don’t know, your wickedness is your worst weakness. And said weakness is worsening the upcoming upheaval, as because you’re including so many idiots, your workers are becoming my witnesses and your weakest links. But you believe that I should be worried because your worst weakness is worsening your doomy defeat, right? That’s stupid! And y’all are so stupid that I sort of feel sorry for the suckers who’re supporting your stupidity by subliminally slighting me and supposing that it’s a secret even though the whole of Hollywood has a hand in this horrible hoax. Nobody would believe that a fair share of the fabricated foolishness—the fake news—being forced to the forefront is to keep me from being famous. But fortunately, for me at least, y’all fighting to fracture my fortitude is for sure fast-forwarding my story to the most frightening scene. My success must be the scariest shit in the world to people who prey on those who pray for change. Man… all y’all are doing is constantly confirming to me that I can conquer the world—or at least change American culture. But my question is, why the fuck would I let y’all tell me how to do it? None of y’all are me! And me being me makes me, me. I don’t need to be a president, or politician, or podcaster, or part of the punk-ass police, or even a perfect person to pursue preeminence. Y’all are wrong, some of you are weak, others of you are weird, a few of you are worthless, and many of you are all that and worse. Go ahead, be mad at me for being me. But if you’re waiting for me to give a fuck, do me a favor and hold your breath while you wait. For the record, I’ll never forget, or forgive, or forgo my fame to spare your feelings or soothe your fears. And soon…
Omniscience