The Age of the Farmed Consumatron

It is both interesting and terrifying that the survival of this economic system has become more important than the survival of humanity.  The necrosystem only cares about propagating itself, which it achieves by farming more humans and creating more consumer needs.  Human society did not simply invent business.  It has become a business all to itself. 

The continued cheap mass production of goods necessitated the cheap mass production of consumers within closely monitored farmed environments called cities.  No commercial modern farm can stay financially afloat without maintaining a high cattle headcount.  Humans are therefore to this day being farmed by the billions, raised to become identical consumatrons devoid of any spiritual consciousness and individuality.  We are being bred like sheep inside cheap, hastily constructed Jenga towers, waiting for the moment they come down on us. 

Meanwhile we are strongly encouraged, and with the utmost urgency, to keep on consuming, polluting and having more children: not for our benefit, but solely to prevent this toxic, unsustainable necrosystem from collapsing into itself any earlier than it would have anyway.  Excess has become a way of life.  Most of the things this civilization preoccupies itself with are unnecessary, absurd, and in fact, damaging to the well-being of both humans and the planet.  We are on a self-destructive path over which we seem to have, by all sights and sounds, absolutely no control.  This is neither a fatalistic or defeatist opinion, but a simple observation of what is on the ground.

The industrial revolution and Unhappiness Machine evolved concurrently to ensure the farm grows, production and consumption explode, and people become easy-to-control identical human cattle dependent upon this system like hospital patients on a drip feed.  Modern human life is as unnatural as that of a factory chicken living and dying under electric light.  We have relinquished control of our lives long ago to this factory, addicted to its growth hormones and not knowing any better. 

This system has become completely watertight, making escape impossible.  The “chicken humans” have no idea where the exit door is or what “free-range” even means, having been reared in an artificial context that feels so vividly real, so deceptively safe and convenient to each one of us, given that it is the only reality we have ever known.  But there is a better life out there, outside of the farm.

The necrosystem cleverly convinces us that we have full control and infinite choice over our lives.  But this is an illusion of freedom.  The list of choices is limited, and the decision options further narrowed down to a prescription.  They represent different flavours of the same option, which maximizes returns for an economic Unhappiness Machine addicted to profit.  Sentenced by birth to be stakeholders and at the same time victims of this necrosystem, we are meticulously groomed into greedy, insatiable consumatrons running around all day working, purchasing, paying bills and destroying Earth in the process.  Not only do we have no control over our lives: our lives never mattered to this system.  It is the preservation of the hard, cold profit indexes which mattered all along, and which all of us are working for.  We are only cattle in this farm, and we are put to good use:  doing all the work, being fattened up to be put up for sale in the job market, then quickly terminated as the next batch of consumatrons is ushered through the farm’s doors.  Please ensure you don’t miss orientation and indoctrination day.  Otherwise, we may have to terminate you. 

All consumatrons are automatically opted into the necrocapitalist farm as soon as they are born.  They become stakeholders, servants and dependents at equal measure, undertaking the vital work of the psychonomy.  Their forced loyalty is preserved through a reward system funded by the natural crimes of the necrosystem.  But as the crimes both inside and outside the farm become too big to sustain, rewards turn into losses.  Both the farm owners and the cattle are finished    

George is an author, researcher, molecular biologist and food scientist.

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13 thoughts on “The Age of the Farmed Consumatron

  1. WOW! Another brilliant, creative take down of our massively overpopulated unnatural lifeway and exemplary in its creative use of language. Could be a script for the next “MATRIX” movie. Thank you, young George, for stepping outside the necrosphere to share your view of the real world. I live in a small rural town in SE Ohio and continue to be amazed by the utter, profound ignorance of the locals and their willingness to endure the pollution in the water, air, rivers, pervasive Appalachian culture, rivers, and mindless Trumpomania. I gave a seminar series at the local historic college, only to be told not to darken their door again, as I had committed the mortal sin of inviting those in attendance to actually assert themselves and participate in a dialog, in which their opinions and experiences were as valuable as any “expert”, including myself. I was attacked by half the audience, who got up and left, and warmly received by the other half, but disrespected by a vocal minority. The subject was my free e-book, “Stress R Us”, which few bothered to read, either in e-format or the PB, which they’d purchased at Amazon. No lasting relationships emerged and I got the heave-ho from the administrators for rocking the necrophilic passive “expert” lecture format. Keep up your great and much needed format rocking! Gregg Miklashek, MD

      1. You are more than welcome! Stay strong and creative, it may be the only way to fight back soon. Have a blessed day! Gregg

  2. Hi again George, great article, I was thinking recently how unnatural our existence is, if we were left to our own biological devices with current levels of nutrition our average age would only be about 50. Scientific medicine keeps us alive for about another 30-35 years on average and I was wondering why our oligarchal friends bother, they’re mostly sociopaths from what I can gather, it wouldn’t be out of any sense of moral duty and then it dawned on me, we are livestock of some sort and even if we aren’t producing, I’m not, I won’t produce for these a**eh**es, we are consuming, I barely do that even. So it’s great to hear someone else come up with a similar assessment George. I could go on for hours about it all but I’ll say just one more thing, here in Australia the powers that be are tightening up as the energy screws tighten, they’re even letting old people die in ambulances waiting outside public hospitals, so there are limits to their concern for the ants in the ant farm. I like that analogy, I had one as a kid, it was great fun manipulating my subjects, fortunately I grew out of that evil phase but narcissists don’t grow up, they’re just retarded a**eh**es.

  3. I’m very disappointed George, you didn’t post mine, nah that’s ok, I’m not narcissistic and they’re really for you mate, us Australians are a bit blunt/rude/irreverent/uncouth/rebellious/belligerent/disrespectful etc etc, pretty cool people all round really and very anti establishment, well, about 60% of old school Australians are anyway. Keep up the good work brother. David.

    1. Hi David, the app asks me to “approve” all comments before they are posted. I generally approve all comments except spam or abuse. As approval of each single comment is a laborious task I don’t always get to approve all comments in time which I why yours hasn’t appeared. Sorry about that

      1. No worries George, you don’t have to always post mine as I get a bit grammatical boisterous as us Australians are want to do at times, having said that I just got an email of praise from a car forum telling me a “very honest” comment had been liked 2100 times, so who knows maybe the crowds getting fired up and my time has come comrade, I’m not a communist, I’ll leave it up to you of course and I won’t be offended if you don’t posty comments. I just wanted to send my unique brand of propaganda to you really but if you want to post it feel free brother. Yassu

      2. And please ignore the anomalies as I hadn’t edited it before I accidentally hit send.

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