There are times when I wish I didn’t own a pair of the damn things. Now though, there are instances that even when not wearing them, I may reach similar, dispiriting conclusions.
Benefit of the doubt, sunny side up, look for the best – exposed; negated.
X-ray specs.
We can see the surface – friendly, initially seems pretty congruent, open even. Pop them on then wrong, wrong and wrong… again.
X-ray specs.
Abbott, Bishop and their minions of Fear forget that we all now own a pair.
We, the people, can see right through you. That is what’s meant by the Emperor’s New Clothes.
Not just that you’re naked.