Those readers growing tired of my own formless and constantly churning set of ideals and philosophies (or indeed those of their leaders, elected or otherwise) might be considering the assembly of their own manifesto – after all, it seems like everyone who’s anyone has a manifesto these days. Well, help is at hand; these instructions were compiled by Kim Mok [found via This Isn’t Happiness].
Feel free to publish your results in the comments. Heck, if you come up with a really good one, I might become your first convert… and if that’s not an irresitable inducement to formulating an ironically coherent standpoint on everything, I don’t know what is. 😉
[ Bonus points for anyone who can call out the song reference in the post title without Googling it. ]
4 thoughts on “Metamanifesto (put it to the test-o)”
Thinking more is good for you.
Thinking is, in fact, not only a necessity.
It is a pleasure.
A big one.
Of course, there will always be those who think -and often try to convince others- that thinking is wrong, evil, or simply not worth the bother.
On the contrary, thinking more can improve your life in many ways.
By making you more perceptive.
By letting you know when people are trying to manipulate you.
By enabling you to recognize subtle communication tricks.
Like publishing manifestos that are structured in such a way that what they state, whatever it is, has the cognitive effect of appearing like a deep, long-forgotten, illuminating truth.
Wow, this was really funny 🙂
Four score and seven years after the founding of our great nation we took pause.
Four years of a horrible war.
Perhaps it does not have to happen.
But it does.
And thus man fights his brother, kin against kin, but whether for freedom or for tyranny we disagree, and even to name the battle is to take a side.
Is it the “War Between the States,” the “War of Northern Aggression,” or perhaps simply the “First Modern War,” that is destined to keep or shatter the greatest promise?
Of the people.
Of and by the people.
Of and by and for the people!
Set among the history of histories it now rests, not in peace, but neither to rise again, for all the answers have been given at length, all the questioners are silent, and yet the past lives endlessly beyond the passing of all, a disquieting epitaph for which they did so strive, fight, bleed and die.
Domo arigato, Mister Roboto.
Jeez, Mister. You’re old.
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