The Outsider

[E. M. Edwards]

We are all complicit in the system. We are our own prison guards: running for cover while we swivel the searchlights and scramble for the guns.

There are no outsiders, only those whose portion of thin gruel is greater or lesser than the rest.

Artists and anarchists, self-labeled or otherwise like to excuse themselves from it, falsely believing that they do not give the system their compliance. But of course, the system does not need it. It has them body and mind - and they can no more escape its influence than they can the nature of their births, or a worm escape the hook once set by any means but being devoured by the fish.

To exist outside the system, is to be an enemy of it. And this too is part of the system, for it needs enemies nearly as much as it does subjects. It creates them both, as necessity demands.

Hear the klaxon call and grab your rife, another jailbreak is on.