There's no irony, only easy minds have those thoughts. Pure propaganda, of the manipulation strain, of the censoring line, of the control element. Agents of the machine, pixels of the state, and their nodding soldiers. Masked and concealed, slogan chanting, like cowardly bandits. Similar to buzzards, they will eventually fight each other for the roadkill scraps.
The days of woe, the nights of despair, the afternoons of fretting and worry. Lighten up, Francis. The oxygen levels are ideal, perfectly we were placed from the sun, the big bang did us right. Thrive and thrive all these creatures, all these grasses and trees and plants and flowers. And the brilliance of water.
As a grape becomes a raisin, as a plum becomes a prune, a soul shrinks without moisture. Dry and stale, chewy and sticky. Take a drink, hydrate. Gulp it good. The earth is spinning, we are speeding through space, the travelling is taking its toll, the gravitational pressure is constant, the orbit is worn.