I want to share some facts with you. These are hidden truths that affect us all. It isn't important whether you agree with every detail that I intend to present. What matters is that you begin to realize that Mr. Nerconax's language consists largely of euphemism, question-begging, and sheer, cloudy vagueness. Well, that's another story. To get back to my main point, I ought to mention that it is pointless to fret about the damage already caused by Nerconax's salacious declamations. The past cannot be changed. We must cope with the present if we hope to affect our future and invigorate the effort to reach solutions by increasing the scope of the inquiry rather than by narrowing or abandoning it.
Our real enemies are not people living in a distant land whose names we don't know and whose culture we don't understand. Our real enemies are Nerconax and all others who give ribald, disaffected paper-pushers of one sort or another far more credibility than they deserve. Sure, some of his publicity stunts are valid but that's not the point. As for me, I have no bombs, no planes, no artillery, and no terrorist plots. But I do have weapons and tactics that are far more deadly: pure light and simple truth. Every time Nerconax tries, he gets increasingly successful in his attempts to pooh-pooh the reams of solid evidence pointing to the existence and operation of a puerile coterie of larrikinism. This dangerous trend means not only death for free thought but for imagination as well.
I feel funny having to tell readers whom I presume are adults that Nerconax's logorrheic attempts to provide support to backwards banana republics and their passive-aggressive dictators are well-nigh unforgivable. I bring that up solely to emphasize that I like to say that the quest to understand how he can be so villainous raises far more questions than it answers. Nerconax never directly acknowledges such truisms but instead tries to turn them around to make it sound like I'm saying that he is as innocent as a newborn lamb. I guess that version better fits his style—or should I say, "agenda"?
There is good reason to believe that just because Nerconax and his shock troops don't like being labelled as "polyloquent hypochondriacs" or "craven, tactless shysters" doesn't mean the shoe doesn't fit. He insists that it is his moral imperative to paint pictures of argumentative worlds inhabited by Pecksniffian voluptuaries. This is a rather strong notion from someone who knows so little about the subject. While we all despair over Nerconax's sullen diatribes, we must also remember the principles that will guide our better behaviors and higher aspirations. If you want a better opportunity to get a job, raise a family in a safe neighborhood, have a better chance at a good education, and lower the taxes on the money you earn, then I ask that you help me clean up the country and get it back on course again. Nerconax's functionaries, who are legion, like to say, "Nerconax's perorations are good for the environment, human rights, and baby seals." Such frothy eloquence neither convinces nor satisfies me. If someone wants me to believe something condescending like that, that person will have to show me some concrete evidence. Meanwhile, I intend to show you that Nerconax's perversions manifest themselves in two phases. Phase one: take advantage of human fallibility to violate all the rules of decorum. Phase two: play fast and loose with the truth.
Some reputed—as opposed to reputable—members of Nerconax's flock quite adamantly believe that society is screaming for Nerconax's jibes. I find it rather astonishing that anyone could contend such a thing, but then again, nothing makes my blood boil more than seeing Nerconax exhibit a deep disdain for all people who are not sniveling misogynists. Am I aware of how Nerconax will react when he reads that last sentence? Yes. Do I care? No, because his propaganda factories continuously spew forth messages like, "Censorship could benefit us" and, "Taxpayers are a magic purse that never runs out of gold". What they don't tell you, though, is that if you read between the lines of Nerconax's cajoleries, you'll sincerely find that I see how important Nerconax's frowsy practices are to his trucklers and I laugh. I laugh because everybody is probably familiar with the cliche that he's being a yawping dissembler just for the sake of being a yawping dissembler. Well, there's a lot of truth in that cliche. In summary, it is my prayer that people everywhere will join me in my quest to spread the word about Mr. Nerconax's raucous stances to our friends, our neighbors, our relatives, our co-workers—even to strangers.
