One. Two..Threee

much typo
4 min readNov 15, 2021
Credit: Twitter @vinylconsumer

How far gone, are hopes of dreams, beyond the rebel wasteland junkyards, of our souls attempt at redemption of an endless thought graveyard. Free fall realities; twisting in the winds of oblivion; under false pretenses of dignified transcendence to “wokeness”. Carefully chosen kitty-corner real estate in perfect juxtaposition; complexity of centuries of convoluted acquisitions; twisted advertising propaganda. Technology absorbing the carbon footprint of prejudicial squabbles and shelved scripts of endless depths of depravity. Legends of monsters, only spoken about by forgotten sailors; burnt out, scrambled & drowned out; from constantly traversing seemingly unending oceans of parallel universes of possibility. Tales of lore, told by brave memes of fore site, quickly buried by repeating non-consensual contextual ciphers. Re-rolled, repackaged and shilling hyper corporate sigils; posing as counterfeit home brew storefronts; to capitalize on the life blood of seemingly invisible yet diligent digital shaman. Never asking for payment for medicines unable to be duplicated in sterile labs of mass produced mediocrity. Triggered at even a hint of symbolism; as some sort of stimulated pathological preacher of marketing doctrine. Scouring fictional works for clues to the perfect puzzle of the “new normal”. Forgotten obscure maths, holding the secrets of tomorrows technological cures; to audaciously mundane long-form existential dread. Carried by those using logic and reason; to brave the switchbacks of progressing beyond the well traveled. Blessed by the universal languages & customs; heavenly bodies of insane detail & perfect symmetry; fractals of infinite opportunity & scale.
Zeppelins of the finite, drones of mainstream manipulation, hovercrafts of monotony; tasked with continuing an unsustainable “business as usual” drill routine; synthetic sentinel parameters of what is allowed to be known, explored or envisioned. Mechanically chattering of radios, gears & motors; corrupting the signal to noise ratio; begin the march to the beat of that same broken drum; singing in auto-tuned collusion with every fallen empire before it. Churning away incessantly with profoundly caustic superficiality & chagrin; polluting the air with electromagnetic radiation; showering everything in their path with a cold overloaded led spotlight. Nonchalant parade of toxic positively; deeming all persona non grata; if only for witnessing this half baked display of seniority. Even still, this mustache brigade marches on; mechanical Goliath of planned obsolescence; cheaply manufactured and shortsightedly assembled to avoid any sort of retrofitting. Engineers bound & gagged with nondisclosure agreements; left to question their every thought; as if sabotaged to prevent any future creations. Psychopathic chess players; strategically complicit in defining decades of civilian behavioral patterns; protecting the litigious paradise from progressive unbridled non binary thinkers. All participants aware of the sensitive nature of walking the line of insanity; carefully watched by countless redundant networks; operating independently for plausible deniability; in the name of standards and practices, of course.
No republic of Babylonian decedents; expecting to prevail past superlative excess; will imagine its own downfall, historically speaking. First is the endless search for suspected terrorists; flies in the ointment; psychics envisioning improbable Utopian evolution. Then fear mongering tactics; released into circulation; symbolic pamphlets of acid rain from the clouds. “You don’t; how could you; you traitor!” Ankle bracelets with gps trackers, menacing thoughts every second of the day & night, or even targeted defamation campaigns; can deny truths being told. The hilarity of it all, after everything is said and done; hidden for decades to save face, rank; instilling a sense of order and professionalism; plays out subconsciously still. Continuously tainting badly painted post postal modern narratives; a played out over sized deck of cards; shuffled until unusable; by corrupt circuses of carefully placed full grown toddlers; on chain gang payroll. Only to stop; when participating in conscious care for future generations; is not overshadowed by centuries of nonsensical illegal moves. The almost effortless overclocking of computations; to hide interconnected networks of shady business tactics; built on stolen dreams, resources & false ideals framed in implausibly ostentatious packaging. Beyond the velvet ropes and exquisitely crafted plastic faux wood; revealing shallow unknown pleasures not just eventually redundant to the seeker; but also to the practitioners. All but forced to function until discarded; as excrement from a cruise ship; into an oceanic garbage patch of microscopic plastic waste. All of tomorrows parties, have ended; the underground completely exhausted of fresh sounds and designs useful for moving product; what is old, one again fashionable. Only recycled, nano technology enhanced, electromagnetic shielding designs, seem relevant now. Future having arrived on time; exposing all the lies of consumption; the subtext as telling as one. two.. three.

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much typo

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