All The Wrong Topics dot com

…clash-iconi-claust… -final submission

No official story, connecting to any common sense, and bludgeoned by inconsistent human compulsion. Line by line, their polices were compared to the effects they would have, words like tectonic plates shifting perspectives. …the bowels of a nation synchronized…
Their eerie intense likenesses lit from within glitched slightly, the tiny room reflecting them off camera lenses placed at every angle of perspective, and catching coverage of this vitally officious act between powerful nations universally ending this plague.
…reckless attempts trying to reassert oneself without reckoning routine from any following aftermath separate from memory…

Everyone suffering around the world praying there could soon be the swiftest end. The swelled egos of politicians affecting their heads via worldwide domination in truly devious plans of action yet.
Precious pressures blessed cowardice directed with luck from representatives, and this act of engaging as holograms representing potential advancements, made their smiles all the more grit and glamor without a word spoken and every gesture a subtle symbol.
…lethality unleashed and intersecting segments manifested by rampant financial pursuit and invested into technology, lacking the luster in the shape of ships, and harangued into submission by altered states, expressed through fear…

Public panic asserting that presidential television celebrity was perfect distraction deciding people’s fates, dying waves abruptly forcing global shutdown so rapidly, and all while sudden conspiracies sprang up manifesting destiny as long as people believed in them.
In an unassuming concrete warehouse where secrets are kept …with radioactive wasps flying, flinging themselves into the air amidst near global panicking, and murder hornets among us while nature tries to kill human populations through disease in the shape of pandemics.
…visions of both contextually infantile and ineffectual behavior, lab-formulated and hybridized children of the future forgetting…

Body parts, mentioning body parts layered over all those eras of deliberate working getting to this point now, and impotent importance. The cycle of life casting its circadian rhythm of shock upon us.
Digitally-enhanced interaction protection in obscene displays of power through millions of dollars in broadcast efforts live on television and streaming at rates that it was, and this was the year twenty-twenty that might have been as the pandemic reigns.
…stunted growth becoming normal, social creatures confined and cruelly-domesticated over generations of success and failure, and shaping the next individuals to try taking charge…

Viewing through densely-warped values biased toward selfish aggrandizement, enough gumption trap misleading any witnesses present to the portentous golden handshake occurring… that what had happened here was social truth.
This technological show of communion between confusions being broadcast all over the world on multiple channels, months after getting so much worse when the influence rolls in.
…distinct images as they fade from view contrasted against such clarity left in the hands of children acting as men though mentally-regressed enough to perceive themselves as doing the right thing…

…enchanted by other world leaders advice and opinions, existing only fawning their supported hero interminable turmoil from proprietary blends of impropriety within society, stacking odds and oddities against us…

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a unique piece of writing that reads like a stream of consciousness or a song playing over a string of historical moments.
Poetic turns of phrase like “Precious pressures blessed cowardice directed with luck from representatives,” and “stacking odds and oddities against us” are artful and thought-provoking.
{1865} Some interesting and potentially profound lines here: “…and all while sudden conspiracies sprang up manifesting destiny as long as people believed in them.”
And I felt the “in the hands of children acting as men” was the pulse of the story. The writer is trying to get a profound experience out of his mind and onto paper.
{2512} You did a nice job painting an uncertain, chaotic political moment. It was futuristic, but present, dripping with pessimism and despair, which worked. The tone was consistent.
The idea about the showmanship of politics contrasted with the harsh realities of a political climate was interesting.
This reads more as a poem than a short story. It is well written and uses carefully arranged word choices, but does not have a narrative with a clear beginning, middle and end.
To me, the story is a struggle with the pandemic’s meaning, and the amount of blame to be given to the powers-that-be during that time (“stacking odds and oddities against us…”).
Would it be possible for the writer to create a character based upon this mindset, and have him/her interact with other characters during a tumultuous time in history?
Power corrupts, as Robert Caro has often said…but showing how it corrupts is more useful than simply saying it in isolation. The writer has skill…they just need a big enough story to allow that skill a chance to settle in and show itself.