They lie to us all our lives about what soldiers do,
about what cops do,
about what journalists do,
about what presidents do.

They lie to us all our lives about how laws are made,
about how kings are made,
about how culture is made,
about how norms are made.

They lie to us all our lives about what our minds are for,
about what our hearts are for,
about what our neighbors are for,
about what foreigners are for.

The world is confusing
and they make it more confusing,
on purpose,
because they thrive in confusion,
and now we watch as the world turns to ashes
carried on the back of confusion
made by news men and corporate creatures who eat ashes.

And we stumble in confusion,
eyes darting behind lenses made of confusion,
trying to understand with minds made of confusion,
trying to feel our way through with hearts shackled by confusion.
Searching for an angel egg we know is there
but can't seem to find
because who turned out the goddamn lights?
And why can't I figure out which way is up?
And oop off we go chasing distractions again
for the next news cycle
the next election cycle
the next spin cycle
the next amnesia cycle.

They lie to us all our lives,
and then when we catch them in a lie they just say,
Oh, the person who gave you that information is bad,
or,
Oh, that came from Russian hackers,
or,
We made a mistake but we don't do that anymore,
or,
Don't be a conspiracy theorist,
or,
Hey! Look over there!
or,
We already knew that, it's no big deal.

And then everyone forgets,
and the confusion churns on.

But the angel egg is there in our mind's eye,
in our heart of hearts,
haunting our dreams,
calling us home,
the embryo holding our original eyes
for whenever we are ready to claim them.

They lie to us all our lives about what our country is,
about what our government is,
about what money is,
about what nature is.

They lie to us all our lives about where the answers are,
about where our friends are,
about where our enemies are,
about where our claws are.

They lie to us all our lives,
and they make the world confusing,
and beneath that confusion we are watching them
with our original eyes,
with our primal eyes,
with our natural eyes,
with our uncivilized eyes.

Watching them,
like lions watching a gazelle,
and waiting,
with primordial patience,
until it is time
to make our move.

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Reading by Tim Foley.

They Lie To Us

Readings of all Caitlin Johnstone's articles, usually by her co-writer Tim Foley.

Chicago studio/venue dedicated to spontaneous composition of music, art and food by fire.