The latest reality In Reality, it seems as if once again total amateur actors are trying to perform completely incomprehensible group therapy screaming-frass plays, they have all taken an unfair, brainwashing pill, as if they were deliberately drug addicts and had to urinate into a cloaca cage. In the reigning fever dream, King Lear's madness seems more and more like a pathetic experiment. The precious self-censorship is not as valid here as the usual series of mutilations.

The instinct-desire of the brutal shell of the outrageous, pathetic exhibitionists is increasingly lurking; is it necessary for everyone to gallivant on the so-called casting couches?! As if everyone is their own Lebowski and paparazzi, because even the UFOs don't like - at least not - to come here, where everyone steals and robs everything and everyone. More and more, the Nothing-beings, brain-wasting idiot-ants, want to tell you what is possible and what is not possible.

Toothpick-like gold teeth in the gaping mouths of each gangster-rapper, Everyone is already getting ratings and another meaningless scalp. Coughing dogs bark sermons about the unattainable luxury dreams of well-being, which - of course - the simple average person will never be able to achieve in their stinking life, from worms to worms, the offspring of this current Jelen are stumbling around more and more empty, deceived human wrecks.

Organically embedded in the category of cheapened paradise metaphors, more and more people are becoming back-peeing stuntmen, hanging on iron cat chains, like well-trained, brainless wild testosterone gorillas, who are punched and thrashed in pop culture - not that many -, wrestling mode. Drowning in massed satire and satire. A small morbid congratulation to the producers and influencers.