Smoky Kiss

by Jake Block

You know, if you’re going to blow smoke up my ass, you might as well kiss it.
I grow weary of all of the glad-handers and suck ups that think they can schmooze their way to the popular kid’s table by laying on the compliments to whomever they think has some authority or power within any given group, all the while badmouthing them behind their backs, thinking that they’ll never get caught.  They’ll play one “friend” against another and work the street like a hooker with bills to pay.  Butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth… and they post crap at will, on board after board, because “Joe” will never read what they say, and even if he did, they’ve made it too cryptic and stealthy for anyone not in the know to follow.
I’m here to tell you, and by you, I mean no one in particular, just a generic “you,” so you can take it as you will, but generally speaking, friends and neighbors, boys and girls, if you are speaking or writing to someone else, you are a dumb ass if you don’t realize that the person you are speaking or writing to is speaking or writing to others.  Especially in this bastardized “world” we call the web, with its endless tentacles of incestuous intermingling, secrets are pretty much either spread immediately, or waiting to be spread at the first opportunity.  I know it’s hard for the shit-disturber’s mind to understand, but as a general rule of thumb, you can pretty much figure that if you’re talking to “them,” you’re talking to “me.”  Again, just a generic “you, them and me.”
Eventually, the shit you spread will come back to you.  It’s almost karmic in its surety.
In the darkness of one’s room, where no one can see you or punch you in your face for your impertinence, it’s easy to think it’s all fun and games.  You can be the badass of all badasses and, if you take too much heat for the shit you spew, you can always make a new account and make changes to rehabilitate your tarnished image.  That is, until, unable to truly reform, you revert to type and it begins all over again.  The generic “yous” of the world never seem to get it.  They read the bullshit of other “adversarial yous,” and think that in their anonymous forays into cyber-battles they gain some credibility in reality.  They know that the odds of their ever having to stand up and be accountable for their hubris are exceedingly long, until they aren’t.  Eventually, once in a while, they forget to cover their backs and attend some “meet up” of some group on some site and find their generic “me” standing toe to to with a less than impressive generic “them.”  Irony smiles as they backpeddal in the face of angry, personal retribution and start blowing smoke.
Look, the web can be a great and useful tool for everything from heavy duty research to social media, but it works best in the hands of someone who can use tools responsibly.  But the web is also like any other form of leveling or egalitarianism, in that it gives the impression that everyone is equal in this world.  Race has nothing to do with it.  Equality in any sense that is of consequence comes down to a measure of individual capabilities, intellect and standing.  Even in a world of elites, the cream always rises to the top and while all others in its strata might be good, there is always someone just a bit better.  Most people have been told that they should “fake it until they make it,” but in the world of reality, beyond the myth of equality found on the web, sometimes you have to stand and deliver and stop blowing smoke.
The Orders of The Sect of the Horned God

The Order of Pan
The Order of Cernunnos
The Order of Prometheus
The Order of Dionysis
The Order of Shiva

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