If you still need a gold-plated revelation that the machinery of government is piloted by deranged ghouls with dead shark eyes and moral rot leaking out their pores, then you never even found the runway, let alone the plot. You’re trying to unravel a thought with a brain that’s already been taxidermied by the cathedral of bureaucracy. And don’t expect the universe to hand you some warm, fuzzy confirmation. It’s not coming. Not for a loyal little statist pack-mule who keeps licking the boot and calling it shelter while the whole carnival of power spirals into its own septic gravity well.
