“Bullshit”, Doogie thought, “is there no power that can stop it?”
Doogie was engaged in the biggest intellectual duel he’d ever known. Bullshit is all powerful. He had to accept the truth. He’d already lost.
Mind manipulation works even when you’re aware of the situation. Doogie had known all along what they were doing. But they were devious creatures and each attack was just subtle enough that his ample mind could rationalize away what had happened. Each attack lead to the next, which was incrementally stronger. Eventually there was no going back.
Before moving to the next step, the squirrels administered a series of tests. Doogie felt an overpowering urge to “pass the test”. He was in deep and he couldn’t help himself. He might as well be a tenured professor.
“If a voter disagrees with you are they literally Hitler?”
It was a mechanical voice, synthesized in iSoftware running on an iDevice hidden somewhere in the car (Doogie had no idea where it was hidden). The signal was routed through the Subaru’s Bluetooth enabled radio, and sent straight to Doogie’s cerebral cortex.
Doogie winced. This was one of the hardest questions. He knew that anyone who was literally Hitler would be moustached, 128 years old, speak German, and be dead of suicide in 1945. But he let reason fade and emotions rule. As he’d been trained to do, he stuck to the narrative.
“Excellent!” The voice agreed. Doogie let out a grateful sigh as six notes of Swedish disco floated through the speakers; his reward. Then the next question: “Why don’t we have electric cars?”
Doogie fought back discussions of energy density and battery limitations. “Big oil stops them.”
“Good. And if males and females are equal, which one is better?”
This was an easy one. It was the first lesson in the squirrel’s indoctrination regimen. There no longer was a juxtaposition in Doogie’s mind between equal and better. He blurted out the answer without thinking (which was the whole point): “Females. Better. Always.”
The squirrels nodded to each other. Bullshit was well established and functioning properly. Time to pull the trigger.
“What is the plan?”
“Get Billy’s keys somehow, deliver him to the stadium willingly or unwillingly, leave him to take the fall when the police strike, continue on to Portland.” Doogie intoned. Under the squirrel’s direction this seemed so right. It appeared the natural course of action. The logical part of his brain was overruled by the emotional. It felt right therefore it was right. Always do what feels good. Relax and enjoy the bullshit.
“Inform the police.” The squirrels ordered.
Doogie made the call. Reluctantly extracting his cell phone from its Faraday cage envelope and placing an anonymous tip that a certain Audi was to be sabotaged at the University stadium this evening. He gave the car’s license plate and warned that the criminal was almost certain to be armed. Just to be sure he hinted there would be drugs in the car. Mention drugs to a small-town cop and their eyes gleam with the promise of future budget requests. Adding icing to the cake, Doogie added “I hear he’s a racist.” That would do it!
Quickly Doogie hung up, turned off the phone, and stowed it away. The University was in a small town, a vandalized car would be the top crime of the fiscal quarter. Nabbing a car vandalizing, racist, drug dealer would improve everyone’s budget projections! Several overstaffed overlapping police forces, the University rent-a-cops, and the county Sheriff would be there. They’d probably freak out and shoot everything in sight, Billy, the Audi, passersby, and each other. Strange things happened when trigger happy bored people in overlapping jurisdictions are deliberately misled by the brainwashed.
While it’s true that no power can stop bullshit, donations can generate bullshit: