The Algorithm Wants You to Hate Your Neighbor
By BR Wilson Guitars & Cigars, The Bipartisan Patriot.
They hand people slogans now
like switchblades wrapped in therapy language.
Every election turns Thanksgiving dinner
into a hostage negotiation conducted through Facebook memes
and nervous bourbon pours.
Nobody talks anymore.
They diagnose.
Excommunicate.
Curate little digital churches built from algorithmic outrage
where every stranger becomes Hitler by lunchtime.
A plumber in Ohio.
A nurse in Tampa.
A retired lineman eating cold meatloaf at midnight.
All reduced to cartoon villains
because they checked the wrong damn box on a ballot two Novembers ago.
Meanwhile the billionaires sip twelve-hundred-dollar scotch together
behind curtain walls in Manhattan
while the rest of America screams itself hoarse
inside glowing rectangles made in China.
That’s the real magic trick.
Convince exhausted people working fifty hours a week
that their actual enemy
is the guy next door grilling burgers in a different colored hat.
And somewhere beneath all the noise,
the country keeps splitting apart quietly
like old porch wood swelling after too many winters.

Comments
Post a Comment