THE DUMBIFICATION OF MINDS

A Loitering Words Essay

There is rarely a meeting point between my Loitering Words persona and that of my ELT Vista self. The former writes with a chipped tooth, a leather vest, a jester motif, and a sly-eyed grin; the latter wears a blazer, or sometimes a black tie. Nonetheless, in this article— which may end up as a podcast, a rant, a performance, or a plea—I intend to bring both to the table, not to find a middle ground, but to come at you with both barrels blazing.

I write this post fully aware that slowly but surely, attempts will be made to shut me up. It is what always happens whenever someone challenges the gatekeepers’ favorite myth: that censorship is care and confiscation is a form of moral hygiene.

Today’s contention is the recent Australian ban on social media for children under sixteen—you know those post pubescent, randy teens, easy pickings and already labeled a “lost generation” by the vegemighty powers that be. The answer is always to take something away when you cannot control the message. No need for innovation, imagination, or investment. Just take. The political equivalent of grounding a teenager because you do not know what else to do. Take. Take. Take. Offer nothing in return … It’s the same old story.

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The Pumps Don’t Work

Dada Mad Porker

My Fellow Americans,
I’ll begin with the upshot.
Let me make one thing perfectly clear.
At the end of the day,
we are all human, 
and I pray to God that love will find a way.

I spent most of yesterday, July 13th, 2024, working on my next novel and writing a chapter about the history of a possible future civil war in the United States of America, especially it’s effect on Florida. Of course, it is hypothetical and just conjecture. However, like my other writings, it is mostly based on true events. That is the nature of fiction, but also poetic license and freedom of speech. 

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Let Them Eat Cough Cake

At times, it seems as if the whole world has become one giant furry-esque Disneyland. Denial is rampant and “turn the other cheek” often means looking the other way. The Internet is crawling with the failed, offering their poor experience as “life coaches” and hawking clichés they have gotten out of a one-dollar book of quotes. Why? Because the Internet is also filled with desperate dreamers—and all the snake-oil-selling sharks can smell blood in the water.

Today, professionalism, experience, initiative, productivity, and creativity mean very little in a dehumanized business climate that more so values the bottom line, politics, or follow-me aesthetics.

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The Last Grasp for a Gasp

Dada Angstus by Jay Leonard Schwartz - @jschwartz63 - Collage Art

The Last Grasp for a Gasp

Deeply lost in the woods in the unsettling comfort of your grasp.
The misunderstood remain elusive, purposely so …
and, there but before ego, grace falls in serpentine gasps.

The window will turn seasons again in a few moments.
Stay tuned—the show is about to begin!
A cast of characters scatter the dreams, laid out like serpents.

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Radio Silence (Static, Crackle, Pop)

'Dada Ministry Of Social Disorder' - Jay Leonard Schwartz

It’s a shame that all relevance is lost
in the to-each-his-own,
taking for granted the lost-in-translation
and the solipsistic lies we tell ourselves.
And in a world desperate for a unified sense of belonging,
we stand alone and wax indifferent about love.
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Otherwise, Other Lives, Other Lies

Trip The Light Pretentious - Jay Leonard Schwartz

Otherwise, Other Lives, Other Lies

What we’ve known will always be,
even when we choose to forget.
It’s not about the silent distance
or the march of balanced offset.

The hour approaches
… and the dawn grows dark
…. and the eyes remain unspoken.
The “in a minute” lingers
… as the flame runs from the spark,
…. and the woke sip the lethargy of the moment.
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To Each His Own

To Each His Dada | by Jay L. Schwartz @jschwartz63

To Each His Own

Why do we cast our eyes from one to another …
but only to those who nod in kind …
with eyes averted …
from what is common among us?

To each his own …
Oh, what a world …
Oh, what a world …

Hate finds objectivity …
an equal opportunity pervades all.
Tears are subjective …
seeking comfort in the cognate.

To each his own …
Oh, what a world …
Oh, what a world …

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