We can handle the truth Jules, we just don’t want it
Julian Assange must be stopped. Not because he’s a traitor or an anarchist, a whistleblower or a terrorist – but because he’s a frigging killjoy. And he’s slowly ruining all our fun.
The world used to be a magical place, full of wonder and mystery. Ancient peoples still cut off from the modern world. Whole continents yet undiscovered. Nobody knowing who really shot JR. There was so much we didn’t know, and it was utterly fascinating.
We don’t have any of this anymore. Now we know everything. Now we have dark matter. Now we have third umpires. And now we have Wikileaks. And it’s boring as hell.
We know what you’re doing Jules. We can see your master plan for global sedation, and frankly, we’re not buying it. We don’t want to be unplugged from this heavenly Matrix we’ve constructed for ourselves. We don’t want the truth, man, we just want to be entertained.
We know information wants to be free. But it also wants to be on DVD, Blu-Ray, and in selected 3D IMAX theaters.
Information doesn’t want to be pulled neatly out of filing cabinets by balding office workers in beige trousers and rimmed spectacles.
It wants to be coming off a three-day bender and punching bad guys in the face. It wants to be exploding secret government test facilities in slow motion.
It wants to be flying stealth bombers into enemy territories, dropping off counter insurgents under cover of darkness, picking up hot insurgent chicks and high tailing it before their husbands come home while Highway To The Danger Zone plays ear-bleedingly loud in glorious Dolby 5.1.
In Assange’s yawn-inducing utopian truth world, information is coming home to its wife at a reasonable hour, just in time for Two And A Half Men, whacking on a bit of Dave Mathews Band, and capping off the night with a sensible three minutes of the missionary position.
There’s no fun in this world. There’s no mystery. No romance. No place for the imagination to run wild.
In truth world, the Secret Service are just called “The Service”, mystery flights are just called “plane rides”, and the movie “Secrets & Lies” is called “Facts & Words”. And if you’re not the kind of person who gets all pumped about potential statistical flaws in the Dewey Decimal System, then believe me, you don’t want to watch that movie.
We don’t want knowledge, damnit, we want gossip.
We don’t want to know the US thought Kevin Rudd was an abrasive, impulsive control freak. We want to bet they did.
We don’t want to know Saudi princes throw boozy sex parties; we want to imagine they throw boozy sex parties.
We don’t want to know the US asked diplomats to steal info from UN officials; we want to read about it in Tom Clancy novels.
We don’t want to know about every single Iraq war secret damnit, we just want to watch Black Hawk Down.
Where’s the fun in knowing Sweden is a covert nation of NATO? Newsflash Jules, thanks to your truth grenade, they’re not anymore. Now they’re just a nation of NATO. Meh, who gives a rats.
This isn’t the wonderful world ol’ Satchmo so lovingly crooned about. This is trees of beige, and dull roses too. And it’s getting duller, leak by tedious leak.
Would you want to live in a world where Richard Wilkins reported that Jeff Golblum died, and he was RIGHT? A world where women in magazines actually looked like real women?
Can you imagine how boring The Colbert Report would be if Sarah Palin actually had any clue about what she was talking about? Can you imagine a world where a car salesman made you a deal, and it actually was the best price?
No thanks. No dice. No sale. No more.
No, Julian Assange and his Wikileaking truth-mongers must be stopped. If we don’t stop the leaks soon, the world will be irreparably flooded with facts. Boring, debate-ending, dinner-party-killing facts.
And before you know it, we’ll all start watching documentaries and reading books and learning things, and everyone will be so uncool no-one will ever get laid and the human race as we know it will become extinct. Sure it’s a long bow, but when the stakes are this high, are you willing to risk it? Are you?
Anyway sod it, I’m off to Kanye’s house. We’re having a Victoria Secrets sex party tonight and I want to get there before Motley Crue finish up. Plus Steve Jobs said that if I didn’t blog about it he’d stop giving me free iMacs for the rest of my life.
Have fun drinking non-alcoholic cider at your lamer truth party, losers.
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