G     R     E     A     T

 

The World is the totality of facts Memes, not of things.

Its radical articulation of seconds: forced perspective for the Masses. They wonder what’s

gonna happen next!

Now repeat until this condition is false.

Just a bunch of songs about the potholes on The Road. Swerving, swerving, etc. New Punk,

Art Punk, Post Punk. Rearrange the words under the bottle caps: pick one and lose your

money.

Seems that our dealings in The Age of Information are hefty with BULLSHIT Knowledge.

Cauldron of stale POP. Current Standards? Let me give you a feel for it: tired of pushing the

rope of Masculinity & Politics & Identity & whatever Kool-Aid.

Ladies and gentlemen: Mental Illness is just a Language Ailment: Culture its Petri dish [gasps].

Yo where is the quote?

My credit score is drenched in mystifications of ideological distortions. Would you like to keep

this sorted by Capital? Low to High? High to Low? New In?

The D The A The N The N The Y

I had a friend that would always talk about how working jobs was this Illusion. Whoring the

sands of your body; perpetuating the repugnant cyclic redundancies of indescribables riches.

Listen:

All of that extra language shit is mine, he had it as a natural instinct, the disdain; a mammal gut

feeling (hardly prehistoric I’d say) that made his hands into claws when keyboard prompted.

ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c ctrl+c

Yet I failed to help him realize this idea will consume you in a maligned chemical-corrosive way,

much like that of suspecting a deadly illness.

- Such a radical POV! [slams desk]. Just let me play this Father John Misty while you describe

it some more.

You might think you’ve figure it out. You’re not the First that TrumanShowd Culture & Capital

into a set of levers and gears, who recited: Thank you for calling Customer Service when we go

the extra mile to make you smile [wink].

Soon you’ll be speaking in Memes, combinations of ideas one-hit-wonders. So deep in the

Meta that write a Reply Comment takes like a month worth of thoughts.

If you ever arrest your ass and resist and then abuse your own power to brutalize yourself just

remember that now Joy, must be an act of resistance. A CD that has been playing for centuries

in cliched cyberpunk Walkmans.

Stopped beating The Dead Horse once, frozen quiet and thought about life. Drafted a sentence

on my temple. Listen, I’ve been since trying to escape those words, to scrub it from this glasstopped

table, but they might as well be chiseled in stone.

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