I imagine a constant flux of neutrinos flowing into my body through my tie. It appears to be acting as some sort of portal into my body; Rays of matter tracing backwards in time to fusion sources, rushing into my soft interior. Though I can't imagine my tie provides any meaningful armor against something as slippery as a neutrino, it of course provides no easier entrance into me. Perhaps its the shape: like some sort of colloquial, super-hero insignia. It certainly matches well with the stereotypes of male persona: everyday superheros, each a calling card of barely hidden powers and chivalry.
I wonder what damage all that extra energy is doing to me. Perhaps wearing a 3-piece helps as it allows my vest to protect most of my chest. Of course my tie some how conducts matter into me despite the two layers of clothing beneath.
I have to imagine that it's more than just neutrinos. After all, those basically interact with nothing and thus can not be percieved. I'm seeing these particles flow into me, though certainly they could do nothing more than enter in. Maybe its electromagnet waves: photons, pure energy. This is certainly an appealing visual but the physics doesn't add up. Hollywood aside, energy and light can't be seen unless directed at one's eyes. Unless the offending material is actually flowing out of me, through my tie, this does not work. And my tie is definitely imbibing that substance into me, not shedding it abroad.
It appears more as some sort of macro-scale particles. Perhaps low-level atoms fluorescing under an unknown energy stream. Or mixed in with radioactive elements that are emitting in the visible spectrum for some astrological cause. No, the particles are only part of the stream, that must be it. Some far off transmitter aimed directly at my tie, fiery and endless streams of matter. Hydrogen atoms in a stream of photons, photoelectric, creating for me a wondrous image of the exterior communicator. Some purpose served by manipulating my insides.
So much energy corrupts, and corrupts quickly, but I can not imagine, or wish not to, so much effort done just to destroy me. This has been going on for some time, if it truly were determinantal I would have known by now, most likely would have died by now. It is something else, something far more sinister than mere death. Murder is a street game, a low class offense. This is technocracy, this will not stoop to such a petty crime.
A deeper game is being played here: I'm convinced of it. The tie manufactures are in on it, have been for years. What if correlation of upper-class behavior is actually the result of some generational scheme? Or perhaps this the next step into activation was more recent. That must be why there is now a fashionable alternative for women and tie wearing. Now both sexes are subject to the whims of these transmitters. But who is the great plotter?
Perhaps the first step is to begin to follow the leaders of the tie companies. Find their associates, figure out with whom they have hatched their great scheme. Or would it be more direct to go straight to the fashion moguls themselves? Are they the chief players in this game, manufacturers just some pawns that have been brought forward in our new, industrial age?
No, they must both be only minor actors in the game: each one taking a title role when society shifts attention. Now that we have moved into the information age, visual fashionistas are taking a starring role. But somewhere behind both the strings lead back to that great puppeteer. They're lurking in the dark, behind the veil. Can we pierce that deeply, or are we to remain forever subject to our ties? Bound up in inevitability as someone else's will is played out in our lives.