Fiction
The Merchant of Bullshit
by J.D.B.
A rotting gene has infiltrated mankind’s cognitive process at an advanced level and turned it into gibberish. Moreover, the Dronzyme, an integral part of the Detox Unorthodox advocated by major forces in the Consultancy Sector, actively stimulates the production of this gene via a benign mucous in the larynx. Soon, under the auspices of the Catallus Group, a new language and functionality possesses the mindset, and no one is considered immune. The Capital itself becomes a repository for degenerate ideas and concepts, whose terror becomes flesh with the birth of a quasi-physical oaf. Herein is the awful truth of the Schnimp, and the Corporate Giants now forced to obey its commands... in a unprecedented wave of NONSENSE. The explanation: The Merchant of Bullshit is a satire on the City of London, and its all-pervading, meaningless jargon, part of the global war against intelligence, as documented by someone who worked nights for over 15 years immersed in it. The author: (location unknown) lives in a shed in Myrddin’s Precinct where he communes with drunken spirits and entities, and launches vitriolic assaults against the Satanic Inertias of the Capital, soon to be revisited in The Gnat. A series of endless night-shifts in the Ancient City of London drives him to the terrifying conclusion that its entire existence is a Hoax – a bankrupt Government, media and economy imprisoned in a Tower of Babble. But can a man certified as insane – twice – complete his mission to rescue the intellectual heritage of his Nation? Who knows. For now, he sleeps amid the empty quarts and flasks, waiting to spring forth from his chrysalis...
