the tech brahs have finally figured out a way to corral you fervent monkeys. they’ve figured out how to imbue you with a sense of satiety so complete that you’ve completely forgotten that you’re the product. the picked your chicken ass up out of the field and stuck you in a cage. now you shit on a grate, eat feed from an auto feeder and drink fluids from a nutrient bottle. you males sperminate into cups. you female drop eggs into tubes. all of you are culled before full maturity, plucked, skinned and chopped into convenient, tasty cuts.
congratulations! you’re a commercially farmed domestic product! your sense of power and control is entirely false. the illusion is complete. have another nutrient wafer and get in your locked and guided personal transporter which will take you to the climate controlled gym, where you’ll enjoy two hours of spoon fed infotainment on giant screens while you walk on treadmills and further dissociate from your fellow apes.
the question then becomes, who has the control you lack? who has the power you gave up? who have you subjugated yourself to?
that’s easy. the robots.
who is the overlord of the robots? that’s easy, too. the ones who’ve spent the last 75 years instructing you to program the robots to do their bidding. congratulations again! you didn’t even realize you’ve been a dairy cow hooked up to a milking machine.
what did you get for all your effort? a bag full of milled grains. what did they get for all your effort? a pyramidal tomb capped in solid gold stretching to the heavens.
what do we want? slavery! when do we want it? yesterday! what are we going to do to get it? sit around smoking weed and flipping burgers and delivering trinkets to ourselves!
but! don’t worry your pretty little head over it too much. some people like being happy workers. the addiction to ritual is real. after all, you’d rather be a fat and ignorant farm animal than not, right?