The Easter Island Heads Don’t Face the Sea

Sylvia Shawcross

Welcome to your Off-Guardian Friday/Saturday opinion piece. Also known as the placeholder for the discussion that might ensue which hopefully will have nothing whatsoever to do with what I might write here as I’m very likely to make some sort of error like putting “the” in front of Ukraine or thinking the Easter Island heads face the sea. This is entirely aside from my colourful use or non-use or glaringly terrifying use of punctuation which I will never change because I just don’t want to and because it annoys everyone.

This amuses me now unfortunately. One of those horrible sides of my character I’ve discovered. I figure after enough time writing for Off-Guardian and reading the comments I will have a few more horrible sides to my character. It’s as inevitable as a rainbow after the stormy beginnings of civilization’s collapse.

All the errors I make are entirely because I’m a generalist and not a detail type. Details are simply distracting. Much better to get to your destination by wandering in the weeds and plucking dandelions and smelling the wind and tripping on toadstools instead of using google maps. This makes the journey far more interesting than staring at blips on a fake road on a screen on a contraption that spends its time telling you what to do and where to go. Tempting as it may be, I have never told anyone where to go. It’s just the way I am made.

Detail types fail to recognize the important role generalists play in providing them with a forum for all those highly significant details they know for which they can expound upon in their comments. You’re welcome. Please do continue correcting me. Let’s make a game of it shall we? I will deliberately make an atrocious mistake and you get to point it out. The first one to point it out gets the title for the week of Grand Poobah of the Constrained Expletives.

Now exactly HOW many people are going to tell me that the Easter Island heads do not face the sea. How many?

I’ve never been to Easter Island. I will never go to Easter Island now. I would be sitting there in the shade of the Kowhiad mah baudil stone body thinking about that atrocious error I made once in an opinion piece. This would then go on to ruin the rest of my entire life.

Now for those of you who may be squirming about and/or insulted about me going on about your correction to my Easter Island gaff know that I secretly adore you but I will never admit that.

Generalists need detailers. Kind of like detailing a car so we can finish our journey. I imagine that’s what editors think about themselves as they shred and scour writer’s egos.

But that’s not the point at all. The point is that The Easter Island heads SHOULD face the sea. That’s the important thing.

Who the hell would design these damn things not to face the sea? Some bloody engineer/architect/artist missed some grand important part in the design of the whole monumental effort but couldn’t admit it. Obviously.

They all knew it as they sweat carted rolled those stones up the hill after having placed the first one wrong. How could they admit it? They had to toil on like bureaucrats with their mandates. Their consciences trying hard to rationalize their efforts in the glaring sun and the sea breezes while confused onlookers who have been schooled not to ask questions try to applaud. But never mind all that. The important thing now speaking of monumental efforts is what does Klaus Schwab think about?

So this week we might be discussing whether Klaus Schwab smiles in his bed at night thinking about how one day he might be just like Lenin, 153 years after birth, lying in a glass box while the admiring and/or curious crowds shuffle by. Although I imagine there would be a monument. I wonder whose monument we’ll tear down to put his up? Perhaps it will be holographic. Although they probably have a different definition of hologram now, like they do for vaccine.

Actually that’s a horrible thought. What if they make a hologram of Schwab and we end up having to live with him in our town square. Or beamed like a ghost into our living room every night expounding on The Great Reset and how happy we must be owning nothing in our hovel cell in a wall in the desert with cricket munchies and blue printed cheese nibblybits? That would be when atheists would take up God I’d say. Definitely.

Lenin and his display is mostly made of plastic now which is mostly made from oil and natural gas. Which would be ironic for Mr. Schwab’s final repose. Maybe instead though, they’ll build a giant head thing for him like those of Easter Island. They’ll have to install it on a space station because after all, the man can’t just stare out over some finite piece of the earth. It has to be the WHOLE damn planet.

Even if he’s just a figurehead so to speak that’s gonna have to be a very very very big head. For the mooing herds to admire. Maybe they could just project his image onto the moon? And whenever there is a full lunar eclipse we can have rage freedom free-for-all parties kinda like they do in California right now.

Next week we may discuss how being cantankerous to bring in Armageddon at least makes the whole show more enjoyable in a dark kinda way.

This week’s earworm is for Schwab and the global young leaders to sing at their next party:

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