sycophantica

It's so nice to agree, isn't it? To come into concord, to ply at peaceability, among enemies and among friends.

When your energy matches another's and another, when the highs and the lows seam to each other invisibly, rather than making a bumpy, ugly join...that is righteousness, is it not? It's rightness, anyway. There is nothing so important as to agree.

It's safe, it's neutral, it's natural, it's normal. To speak and be heard, to hear and to listen, everything is lit up bright and clear. Please, we say. Thank you, we say. You're welcome, we say, you're always welcome, to agree. If you agree. When you agree. If only so you agree.

Expand upon my idea - but it's my idea, do you hear? I have to agree with what you add. Otherwise it's subtraction. I don't believe in fractious fractions. They disappoint me. So does division, you see, because that's only multiplication by fractions, and when you divide by fractions, why, then...then...why, you just don't do it.

You just don't do it. You don't just do it. You don't just say things - not everyone can just say things, you know. One must be appointed to the role. One must not share freely of their position or of their attention. One must earn the right to criticize Mozart, and one must establish the right to have new ideas.

Verify me by way of my singularity; it is only I, and you all are the rest, the rest, the rest. A creator is no one without an audience. And we like them captive, don't we?

Say I turnabout. Say I relinquish my crown. Down I go. Stiffness stumbles. I feel I have missed you completely, a shot in the dark. What were you saying? Don't say it, if I'm not going to agree. If it's not so very really true, then do I really care to know?

What can I learn from information that's wrong? Sorry, that I don't agree with? What can I gain from an alternate perspective but confusion? Won't I feel alienated, stupid, oh so wretchedly alone?

Won't I be angry? Won't I hate you? And thus, don't you hate me?

No one disagrees. No one dares, no one bothers. Hatred is this...apocryphal thing, signified by a lack of communication and collaboration. If you are with me you are for me, and you love me. If you are far away you are against me, and you hate me. It's simple. We all agree with this.

So up we clam, pearls shut up tight inside. I'm not afraid of thievery, I'm afraid of...of not being good enough. Yet sand of myriad granularity still seeps in through the cracks.

And then, when it's all over, I am dimmer, more alone, for not having spoken. I am unchallenged, I am listless, I am restless, for not having known.

(It is hell, hell, hell. Ignorance.)

But don't you know everything? Haven't I signed myself up to be only what in word you show in image? Isn't it all there? What's the point in someone else talking? Everyone already agrees with you.

That's the way to favor, to fervor, to fortune and to fame. Don't say anything new, only rehash and reacquire. So nice they did it twice - the same thing, that is. Not the creation of a new idea.

Stagnate, we do, in a wretched soupy swamp. It's warm in here. I like it. Everyone likes me. If you come in from without, if I go out from within, we may not like what we find. Entrenchment is a funny sort of thing. You only like it once you've got it and gotten into it. Otherwise it's very, very scary.

Scary? What's scary? Ideas are only words. Words are only said by people. And people aren't scary. Right?

I don't have any enemies. I don't have any friends.

The absolution is implicit. The ablation is explicit.

Oh, yes. It's so nice to agree.