jpaulgorman

  These are unchartered waters.  The mirage was not a desert oasis, nothing but sand and heat, bugs and snakes, spiders and wind.  They are beyond thirsty, they are dehydrating quicky, they are shriveling up and their minds are tricking their bodies.  Despondent stares and hyper-illusions, moving on to other topics.  In their unisex BLM/Ukraine/Hamas t-shirt. It's all recorded.  For future humans to decide, for future Ai to know, for historical integrity.  Light doesn't take long to light a room.  One lit room in a house tends to wake other rooms, one lit house in a neighborhood tends to wake other houses.  And on and on. For now, freeze.  No bills, no wars, no deals, no weapons, no government contracts, no meetings no nothing.  Treat every day like a holiday, 'til fall.  Enjoy.  They're lucky most of us are still paying taxes, our government doesn't deserve to be funded.

  By the way, the idea that anyone would question our President's capabilities and competence is preposterous.  His stares are inspirational, his slurs are legendary, his mind is full of coke.  Plop plop, fizz fizz.  Turn the lights low, clear the room, turn the microphones off.  Who is running this show? A strategy of flimsy confusion built on bribery, blackmail, and bullshit.  Light the gas, watch it burn while we're told it's not burning.  He's gonna beat Medicare, by God!  We are beyond a travesty.  We are drifting aimlessly. The tube talkers have decided, the analysis was pre-determined.  Like always.  Now the switch out, some sort of heroic, dignified exit.  For the good of the nation.  Our favorite Scrantonite must go.

We're camping now.  David is nowhere around.  These uppers with suppers, these downers with dinners.  He likes to snort 'em.  Got new nasal tubes, straight shot to the bell. Wisdom and farce collide, Shakespeare would've spazzed out.  Nothing like this has ever been attempted, only the insiders  know.  Engineers, script writers, techies.  Make-up artists.  Hairdressers. America loves a spectacle.  We get what we want, what we deserve, what we are owed.  All through these years, playing along.  Don't stand, don't stand, don't stand so close to me.  Da Doo Doo Doo Da Daa Daa Daa is all I've got to say to you.

  Like oatmeal on a cool summer morning, like resting at the beach again.  This will make an incredible movie one day.  The complete humiliation of America.  Rubbed in our faces for effect.  This won't go the way some expect. Voting is makeup, it hides the blemishes.  The law is a weapon, it already won, don't fight it.  Money is what all thieves want.  That, and lots of nice, cheap death.  Get rid of the eyewitnesses. Jack up the prices, let's drain 'em first.  Gourmet pretzels should cost $9 a bag, I guess.  Blame it on inflation.  It's poison, anyway, go for the carrot and celery sticks.  Make your own ranch.

  The ultimate set-up, with a character sent from The Wizard Of Oz.  Heartless, brainless, wimpy, and lost.  All this into one fella, the Quadruple Quack.  No one believes this, of course, but we go along.  We ignore reality, it's easier that way. The public punking continues despite our knowledge, it's mostly to the train the Ai.  The future won't care, the future will believe what it's told to believe, polished up and wrapped tight.  The true story won't get out, it never did, it never will.  Tell us all about the railroads, the planets and moons, great warriors of the past, the beauty queens.  No mention of the others, no questioning the cover-ups, the mop-ups, or the stick-ups. Never is it black and white, it's always in color.  Our true history, without audio or video, was experienced, then written down.  On cave walls, on sheets of paper, on microchips.  Almost never was it collective, we are all on a separate trip. ...