In the age of the hyperreal, it is impossible to distinguish something from its copies, until
shrapnel rips your material flesh and your own tears salt the wounds. As hunger rises and terror builds, suffering is epistemic certainty. Disinformation is in the air; but immutable conviction lives on the ground. Movie stars line up to join an imaginary battle for justice only to die or flee the bullets of confirmation.
This information has been verified by the independent flesh and bone of children dying in the rubble of hospitals and schools. Sometimes there’s a moment when you realise, when the judgment hits you like a ton of bricks, that all flags are false.