Great Resetters are the technocratic counterparts to the unfortunately deranged mental cases wandering the street sporting "apocalypse now" sandwich board signs.
Differences: the GR's garb is lab coat and VR goggles and their delusions are malicious
At least those guys used to regard their delusions as real. The trend-setting Resetters know fulwell it's a scam - they did it before, making oil the fundamental unit of energy, and now they aim to do it again but taking the whole planet and alll of humanity as payment rather than just unimaginable wealth.
Whilst reading this, I was reminded of all that “New Age” paraphernalia back in the 70s: all that spaced out ambient music and soft-focus pan pipe dream stuff. Repetitive soothing strains, dippy mild electric guitar glissandos, wind chines, cute hippies and Neil Diamond’s “Jonathan Livingston Seagull” album which, for me, is the ultimate guilty pleasure (“Be as a page that aches for a word that speaks on a theme that is timeless” and “You may find him if ....(meaningful pause)... you may find him!”).
And it now seems to me that the true appeal of all that gauzy stuff is that it was blatantly unreal hence its attraction. This was the kind of “back-to-nature” experience that meant venturing into the local woods ... and then snuggling up in a caravan to watch TV!
Great Resetters are the technocratic counterparts to the unfortunately deranged mental cases wandering the street sporting "apocalypse now" sandwich board signs.
Differences: the GR's garb is lab coat and VR goggles and their delusions are malicious
not organic.
At least those guys used to regard their delusions as real. The trend-setting Resetters know fulwell it's a scam - they did it before, making oil the fundamental unit of energy, and now they aim to do it again but taking the whole planet and alll of humanity as payment rather than just unimaginable wealth.
Whilst reading this, I was reminded of all that “New Age” paraphernalia back in the 70s: all that spaced out ambient music and soft-focus pan pipe dream stuff. Repetitive soothing strains, dippy mild electric guitar glissandos, wind chines, cute hippies and Neil Diamond’s “Jonathan Livingston Seagull” album which, for me, is the ultimate guilty pleasure (“Be as a page that aches for a word that speaks on a theme that is timeless” and “You may find him if ....(meaningful pause)... you may find him!”).
And it now seems to me that the true appeal of all that gauzy stuff is that it was blatantly unreal hence its attraction. This was the kind of “back-to-nature” experience that meant venturing into the local woods ... and then snuggling up in a caravan to watch TV!