The Culture of Fantasy

The Media’s Influence on a Decaying Society
(With Great Appreciation to Malcolm Muggeridge)

Can anyone doubt the influence of the media on the masses? Though it seems to be a “no brainer”, the Civil Libertarians and Media Moguls always are quick to side with celebrities and loudly proclaim that art imitates, not shapes the world we live in.
I am so tired of the bogus, politically correct wimpishness that infects us. We have had our sense of reality so numbed by the constant flicker of fantasy, that we have educated all common sense, moral sense, and passion completely out of modern life.
Is television, the kingpin of mass brainwashing, neutral in this destruction of American character? Absolutely not! Television is possibly the cruelest weapon ever forged against the world by Satan.

A demon approached his aged master. “My Lord,” he sneered, “I want to serve you more fully. What do you desire?”
The cruel creature sucked in a grotesque mixture of slime and smoke. His eyes cowered the demon, whose legs showed a slight tremble.
“I want to take away literacy, pathetic one. The sword is more powerful than I ever imagined it to be. We must keep the children from using the sword..”
That pathetic demon tried stamping it out….it only grew
He martyred the writers and copiers…. the sword flourished
He confounded the translations, set up governments to block it….nothing succeeded.
……until, the advent of the technology for television. Flickering at a pace to mesmerize the mind. Fantastic images so far removed from reality, that it was a permanent holiday…
in less than 50 years, reading ability plummeted. Brains were rewired before the children even knew what hit them.
Bible production continued to rise……but the sword dwindled in the land.


Be not afeard, the isle (TV) is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again, and then in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I wak'd
I cried to dream again.
(The Tempest, Shakespeare - III.ii.135-143)