I see a lot of discussion online lately about not being able to grasp what’s real. I’ve definitely echoed that sentiment before. The news that breaks each passing day has shown us that reality can sometimes become a parody of itself. It’s hard to believe we’re seeing these things with our very own eyes, even if it’s only viewed through the funhouse mirror of the internet. Why, just today, a Times reporter posted a photo of the U.S. Naval Base in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, showing three flags at half-staff, in remembrance of former Secretary of State Madeliene Albright. We see an American flag in the middle, a Navy flag nearest to us, and a McDonald’s flag to the right of Old Glory. Just equally flying in the breeze. Right in out in front. Good ol’ Mickey D’s. God bless the U.S.A. I didn’t even realize fast food was available to Gitmo detainees, but I guess there’s always something new to learn here on the Circus Planet.
Things like this just look so wrong at face value, and more of them are popping up each day. We’re witnessing a freak show we didn’t buy tickets for, and it’s just disappointing how many suckers were still born out of it. But the illusion of ‘The Good Guys’ is slipping fast. And I think a lot of people may end up feeling betrayed when they take their final curtain call. Not me, though. I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. I snuck in through the back tent flap a long time ago, so I could peek at what the ringmasters were planning. And I found a lot of backstage acts who’ve got some stories to tell.
Some things I don’t believe. Others I could see happening. But some are starting to make perfect sense to me. Things that I don’t want to be true. Like Wag the Dog is no longer a fiction. Or a famous actor is donning a mask to play the president on TV. The role of a lifetime. I’d genuinely feel sad if that one was real. But I can suspend my disbelief for a bit because I know we’re not getting the whole story from those within the halls of power. The one releasing the snake-oil fliers to an unsuspecting yet willing audience. I don’t believe their lines or lies, so I drift elsewhere, looking for an attraction who will maybe tell me the truth for once. Or at least a truth I can believe in. Because when there’s a carnival barker for each and every one of Earth’s attractions, I may as well post up at the most satisfying show.
I don’t particularly care if someone doesn’t believe my crazy theories. They don’t hurt you in any way, shape, or form. It can be my reality until something comes along to disprove what I think. Unlike a lot of knuckleheads running the current reality show, I don’t mind admitting it when I’m proven wrong. And so far, no one has been able to do that. But that’s probably because no one has asked me to prove any of my theories true. I’m not one to so easily share, so I can sit comfortably in the audience, watching the performers act like they’re not trying to hoodwink an entire generation. I don’t expect you to throw down at my booth either, but I’d love it if you gave me a shot and hear why I’ve chosen to play the game this way. Listen to me long enough and maybe I’ll spit out your fortune. Or grant you a few prize tickets the next time you come see me. Any scenario seems plausible to me, because turnover happens quick underneath my big top.
Maybe just the belief in something makes it real. We don’t always need to see it in person to have evidence of its existence. I have not seen the face of God Himself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel His presence. Whether it’s a light breeze, a gorgeous vista, the sights and sounds of the yearly town festival, He’s there. And I feel this is His Earth to defend. Maybe it’s been that way this whole time. But we’re all starting to see that it’s a place where the villains can’t run the show anymore. For years, they’ve found ways to keep us down and tired, caged and whipped. Brought out into the spotlight and forced to perform, to tear away our humanity and give into the degeneracy. But now, thanks to what I believe is His realness, the people have found ways to say “no.” They’ve grown tired of this and are ready for the ride to end. And I don’t think we’re going to let the traveling circus pack up and leave town so easily this time around.
I believe the show is ending soon. The ringleaders have used up their entire bag of tricks, and the shackles that kept us on the edge of our seats have finally broken off. It’s all happening as we speak. Because that’s what my reality is showing me; a once-well choreographed gig coming apart at the seams. I’ve always believed it, no matter how many people dismissed me as crazy. But that was my choice. I bought this ticket a long time ago. It’s good for one admittance into finding the ride of my life. Only I have to slog through a mile of elephant manure to get it.
Oh well. This is just my own little one-woman show. I’ll find new ways to clown around and keep you entertained. That is, until someone steps right up and wants to make a duet out of it. Because, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, humans of all ages…
The real show is about to begin.