America is the ultimate consumer society and it’s sacral language is advertising, the very song of consumption, the ultimate death dirge of animate hieroglyphics, writ ultimately in ether.
The aim of advertising is branding, the minting of identity, the invocation of expectation.
A brand, once cast into collective consciousness, does not belong to the wearer of the brand, and may even become free from the hand of its creator.
The fate of a brand is ultimately in the hands of the advertiser, who may or may not decide to burnish or taint it as his inclination dictates.
A brand is created by a master.
A brand is worn by a slave.
To attach one’s identity to a brand is slavish.
To cling to a slavish brand is profoundly slavish.
The creation or recognition of a lived and unbranded identity is the act of a man.
So, am I the absence of color?
Once I was supposedly a false purity, although I had the look of freckled dirty.
Then I was abruptly a weak deviltry.
But what am I really?
I would rather be a creature of reality.
-A Christian?
-A Heathen?
-A seeker?
-A nomad?
-An American?
It was bad enough to be named the absence of color by the enemies and enslavers of my ancestors, to be pre-erased and rendered a ghost cursed to worship credit and currency. But to cling to that slave brand after it has been tarnished by its own guilty hand?
At this point I’m content to be just plain old beige TRASH, no whitewash required.
At last we have come to a new advent that might give some of us a chance to BE rather than to remain branded and rebranded by the owners of the mob mind.
-James LaFond, Friday Night, July 17 2020, Henrico County, Virginia
High Arуan is my answer:
littlebook-docs.nfshost.com/aryans
Thanks!