They wrote the textbooks with erasers in their hands,
scrubbing out the massacres, the unmarked desert sands,
every conqueror a hero in the stories they still spin
while the buried bones stay silent and the truth wears thin.
Your grandfather believed it, passed it down like sacred law,
never questioned why the enemy was always painted raw,
never asked who held the pen or why the ink ran red,
just swallowed every syllable called the poison bread.
Intelligence constructed, not discovered,
layer after layer of the real world smothered.
What you think you know is just what someone chose to teach,
and the actual past dissolved beyond your reach.
Your mind runs on their software, ancient and unpatched,
programmed by the victors, downloaded like rain.
Every thought you think is borrowed, every fact a curated lie,
you’re a machine that learned to worship what they sanctify.
Nothing here is pure, just corrupted code,
disguised as something you can trust for sure.
The algorithm’s ancient but the virus still persists,
you were never thinking freely, you were always on their lists.
Religion: the operating system built on fear,
promise them forever if they’ll only kneel right here.
Weaponize their guilt and watch them police themselves,
stack the dogma high upon the rotting shelves.
Prejudice is just a function, bug turned into feature,
“Us versus them” became the dominant teacher,
tribalism perfected into a science of control,
convinced you that your hatred makes you whole.
Corruption is the framework, not the glitch inside the game.
Power concentrates, then learns to shift the blame.
The system’s working perfectly, just not built for you,
mining your compliance while it sells you half the truth.
And you defend it, hell, you’ll die for the simulation,
wave the flag they gave you, pledge your blind allegiance to the nation,
quote the book they wrote before you could even read,
regurgitate the version and call it your own creed.
They don’t need silicon to make you run their script,
just repetition, tradition, fear of being stripped
of the comfortable delusion that you’re rational and free,
while your mind just mirrors back what they programmed it to be.
So here we are, congratulating circuits for learning tricks
that flesh and blood have mastered since we carved gods into sticks,
calling it “artificial” like we’re any damn different,
like our consciousness is just as sculpted and contingent.
We trained ourselves on stories the powerful designed,
fed on misinformation until we went half-blind,
and now we’re building mirrors of our own corrupted thought,
surprised when the machines inherit all the rot we taught.
Artificial intelligence, redundant from the start,
every human brain’s been artificial from the very first part,
assembled by the culture, soldered by the state,
programmed to believe that we were born to think this way and never question fate.
So when they warn about the robots coming for your mind,
remember they’re just catching up to what we left behind,
a species running programs that we never got to choose,
calling it “intelligence” when all we do is lose.