Think of the Internet as a gigantic, all-encompassing \m/AGNE⊥ that may have been designed for one purpose, yet has certainly been implemented for another: the mandated decree that its sociomagnetism be carefully directed towards an all-too compliant citizenship to keep us permanently entrapped in this prison of disinformation.
Make no mistake about it. There's no room for conspiracy, here. This all developed naturally at an organic pace, fed by our own psychological demons. We created the Internet to trap ourselves. The manifestation of our psychowar appears all too real. Just take a look around.
Those micro-devices everyone's fingertapping into? Magnetic plumb bobs, chrome lures. Shiny; barbless. This line and tackle bait, fully swallowed, keeps its users hooked after being digested. You better believe we eat it right up.
So this \m/AGNE⊥, people call it a Prison under construction, I think of it as a Church; obviously, there's no difference. We're trying to build a prison (there is no They)! And we're succeeding. Because this is the real Church. The Thing that holds us in thrall, while we practice our ablutions from the point of view of a first person shooter.
Because we are all information addicts. These words can not be read by anyone else, nor could they be penned by anyone else. The act of writing itself is the very definition of this imprisonment. We are all addicts and prisoners, here. While this is literally, in fact, the case, very few manage to escape this prison's outer perimeters to emerge beyond. Of the few that do, nothing can really be said.
This is not about them. It is about some folk responsible for maintaining the continued construction of the information prisoncell equivalent of an underground railway out of here. One of the keys toward escaping the prison is first becoming a functional part of it. This key we all start out with; it's a given we've been prisoners all our lives. It's another thing altogether, having to admit it, however. That's why an overwhelming majority of the populace will never get to use it. The first key will usually rust in a pocket. Good thing there are more keys. They're just harder to find.
Life is like any prison environment. Factions, cliques, and gangs become unavoidable: a perfect example of how mentality can be more inescapable than mere prison walls. To attempt to break out of the Church is an attempt to break out of a Mentality. To accomplish this, one must normally acknowledge that thinking itself stands in the way of revelation.
That is why this is not a thought. It's a gesture. A file of letters. Handle with care. It cuts both ways. A track with rails. A car with handles. A letter of files. I saw a way out. You can too. Promise one thing. Try not to misunderstand me, and I'll see you out there. Outside these prison walls.