The Corporate State murdered Culture.
Dirges attract attention; Dr. Naomi Wolfe’s poignant “The Death of Culture: How Lies Killed Books” attracted much, because it was true. The Age of the Big Publisher is over, their Zombie shells inhabited by the spirit of Propaganda.
The Comic Giants, once Heralds of Secular Pantheons and American Mythos, have fallen, cannibalising the corpses of their once-beloved Intellectual Properties, comics selling to no one, movies playing to empty seats. The Media Houses write music by AI, sung by AutoTune, lyrics to anesthetise listeners. The Great Publishing houses now launder money through big contracts to Politicians, pandering to their constituents via vapid committee-created collaborations, propped up by Corporate Oligarchies and Shareholder dollars.
But that does not mean the Death of All Things Cultural. The diseased corpse of the Media Moguls has died, true - but like Life in a toxic waste dump, Culture cannot be killed, it can only be suppressed. Eventually, the vines creep back, the roots take hold, and once again glorious Life rises from the mire, defeating Death.
In the wake of this atrocity, a remarkable response has occurred, a natural reaction to the unnatural offerings of these dead Publishing Houses and their products. In defiance of this Corporate slaughter of Culture, Heroes arise -
the Iron Age Bard is born.
In rebellion of these would-be Gods of our Universe, a spontaneous gathering of troublemakers and rabblerousers has assembled, called to action by their own consciences; in protest of the Corporate Culture of Death, a new Era of Cultural Life is born - the Iron Age.
We, the Creators of the Iron Age, stare into the cultural void and find it abominable. Music, Art, Movies, Books, Media - rewritten at the touch of a button, banned from all discussion, created to satisfy no one, designed to destroy all unauthorised views. What was once a Culture is now a Cemetery, killed by those who would Reset the World.
We defy you. We reject you. We Create.
We hammer out Creations by moonlight, in forges hidden to all but the most discerning eye; we write in bedrooms, sketch in basements, sing in bathrooms, create in breakrooms, where no one else sees -
bouncing babies, we write a line, feed a spoonful, then write a line again.
Little by little, Cultural Life takes hold, under the nose of those who would destroy it. Songs, Poetry, Epics, Art, Life… it takes root in discussion chats, in online forums, in Homes, in Churches. Bit by bit, thread by thread, link by link, we forge a new Culture from the Ashes of the Old.
The Author are writing, the Singers are Singing, the Artists are creating and none can stop us. Our Pen our Sword, our Voice our Instrument, our Vision Invincible -
We are the Iron Age.
We are Independent Creators who create in defiance of Corporate Oligarchs and their Propagandist Publishers, all for the Love of Creation. We are suppressed online, our searches "throttled", our advertising banned because of censorship. And yet, we thrive…
"Iron Age" Creators are creating in spite of The Powers That Be, rejecting their lies, resurrecting Beauty from their Cultural Pyre. Wresting our heritage from the ash, we remold it into the image of Truth, our vision of Justice, and the Hope for a New Age of Cultural Life, one created in the Image of its Creator. Let the Tyrants tremble as beyond the ramparts they hear -
the chant of a distant army, the Bards of the Iron Age.
Eons slowly come, but quickly go
Changing course of all we know
Inspiring and spot-on. Darkness cannot win if even a pinpoint of light gets through.