According to the Black Panthers, consultants are the masters of placation. I keep this in mind. I have no access to the decision making processes, so I too will be placated. Softly or abruptly. There is no choice. For those who want to have access to decision making will have to kneel at the alter of placation, kiss it’s feel and vow an oath of lesser evilism to the delight of various daemons in hell. This oath is sworn daily, like make up in the offices. Everyone wears it. Nobody really knows why.

Yes, your country needs you too, jump of the roof like lemmings. I think we’re alone now. Are we ever really alone? None the less, this confession is a warning for when they come. The politicians in the consultants disguise aren’t asking. They are telling. There’s no point in wasting your breath, just smile and nod and wait for them to float away in their silk suits with their folder full of ticks. A consultants pen never makes a cross. And you had no power anyway. You never did.