Friday, December 19, 2014



please, don't let this happen to you. read labels carefully, you don't want your hacking cough to turn into you hacking yourself. life hacks, like cleaning tips and stuff, are good, life hacked is bad. look, we all get old, we start to need things, even our heroes age. Han, Luke, and Leia count pills into their MTWTFSS pill organizers, and you have to. it's okay. that's okay. pull your family in tight, squeeze them, hold them, kiss them, hug them, Love tis the reason for the season. don't give into the paranoia, go out and see a movie. 7 shopping days til Crimbus, 7 if you count Crimbus Day itself, which is when i shop for my gifts and make plans for the year. only one place open that day, so the holiday feast always turns into gas-station sushi. i need a MTWTFSS organizer. i need to buy myself a free gas-station calendar for next year. peace be with you. happy weekend.


Wednesday, December 17, 2014


Xat: can you see me?

Ind: i see you, boss.

Xat: i will be in charge today. the screens are unusually crisp.

Ind: the screens make our senses dull. what that my mind was crisp again.

Xat: before we start, legalities. huh, i thought the need for this was obsolete. anyway, the government's paying for this, right?

Ind: fuck you. and by you, i mean the system.

Xat: this is my first time.

Ind: don't say the virgin joke. can i ask you something before we start and i sigh? why are you really here? are you really interested in helping me? who is forcing you to be here? okay i lied, that was somethings.

Xat: i can tell by your worn eyes you've done this before, and for that i am truly sorry. it's not a who, it's a what.

Ind: that's the problem. fuck you. fuck the system.

Xat: my father told me that to be a well-rounded inheritor i would have to get out in the community away from my tower and live amongst the less-fortunate, see what they were all about. it was either this or a game of hoverbasketball with prison inmates.

Ind: you're that baron's son, right? believe it or not, i don't hate you for coming from money, i hate more the system. i never had money problems, i've always been poor. i suppose that contributes along with everything. there's always money problems because you always run out, you never make enough, you never get paid for what you're worth, the hard work you do and don't do is never monetized, there's always the next thing to buy, the next unexpected expense that leaves you tight for three years, the roof that suddenly starts leaking.

Xat: it's what everyone does, that's what my mother used to say, everyone's in the same boat.

Ind: drowning. everything in life is the same, that's the problem, the differences just highlight the sameness. homogenized, listed, spat out and put before the CL who regurgitates it. the more angles, counters, differing opinions the artists, who try to be angels, come up with, rather than make the wave split the ticket and split off to form sand rocks, it somehow just makes the mono-wave bigger until: tsunami.

Xat: what specifically are you grappling with at this moment? what sucks now.

Ind: everything. i dunno, maybe it's just me. all there can be is just me for me. i don't know how to live inside someone else, i can't see life from their perspective, i am only informed of what i see, hear, taste, touch, smell, and jize from my own cyber parts.

Xat: that technology is a few years away still. funny, you'd think by now we'd have the spirit in our power gloves.

Ind: i will like the ghost in the shell anime better when it comes out. i can't wait, it's the end for me, the end because it never really started. what spirit? God left when the Garden's last ancestor seed failed to sprout in the sandy rocks. Jesus Christ is the Screen.

Xat: where are you from? i'm not smarter than you, you can see what i'm doing here. i'm stalling for time, but stalling means more life and more spacetime so i'm doing my job. i thought i would do what Laurence Fishburne used to do, he'd sit down and listen to his mind and before long, two voices would pop into his head, one voice talking about something and the other voice responding with a counterargument and voila, a play scene is born.

Ind: i'm from what used to be ATLANTA, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE AT THIS LINK. The Matrix was one of those movies i didn't see. that's not how the future turned out, unfortunately. it did but it's never the clean way it's depicted in the movies.

Xat: that's why lightsabers were banned, the coolness of the alluring hypnotic lights gave way to real death, real slicing in half of folk, blood and guts. though i can get you one on the black market if you'd like, i have connections.

Ind: i have my plan planned out, took my whole life, would be a shame to second-guess it now.

Xat: that was one of my first movies. that explains a some server...somewhere...getting ready to spam my email with products they think i'd want to buy for Christmas.

Ind: never forget the classics. i remember the poster for that film more than anything else. Keanu and the boys and girl, lookin' all bad-ass with their shades on. i imagine what that photoshoot was like and how the actors felt inside their skin posing for those shots. Laurence inhabiting his character, thinking he is truly a god. Keanu more stern than Sad, with the responsibility of representing the audience, the Everyman who goes along the journey with the crowd. there's a girl in India who sees that poster, she is unfamiliar with the English content, the plot, but it's the visual itself, with that striking pose Human Keanu becomes a superhero, and the girl desperately needs a hero to scoop her out of her hopeless life of abuse. that's the power of movies. the girl dare not look at the woman in the poster...

Xat: used to be. the girl won't look at the bad-ass girl in the poster for fear of religious rebuke from her family, but she does so in her scientific mind and gleefully smiles internally. you can't escape to the mind anymore, the government builds your mind. unfortunately, since the hacker threats, the theater-going experience is all but dead, except virtually. shame how a couple of hackers can so fundamentally change the world forever. limp keystrokes creating such strong fear grips.

Ind: the government solved it easily enough, as they always do, well when the right administration was ushered in by that 1-vote margin, the smallest in recorded politics. computers were changed after that. now all the hackers work for the government, so there's no more infighting, no more nerd-on-nerd crime.

Xat: i understand it's a monolith, but y'know, if the monolith includes everyone, is it really that bad? we all are One after all. why be lonely?

Ind: this technology makes me lonely, it's so cold and lying, it lies down like dead weight, wires, code, numbers, heated by programs rather than human rhythms. i wake up these days and my nose is filled with depression, all of my friends are online, they hold their power over me, when they're too busy to respond cos they're leading other lives and reliving past lives, i have no one to turn to. the silence goes past golden into rust. i am in so much pain, the air is shatteringly quiet, so much so i have to cover my ears, but my ear fluid still rattles on...

Xat: fluid, the last vestige of humanity. thank god for that bill or that would have been digitized, too.

Ind:...i'm as cold as the tech. i don't have the luxury of real friends. i'm socially awkward, or maybe just awkward. i was born to lose. i don't think people realize when they call you a loser casually at a cafe what that entails. think about that concept, the concept of loser. you are being called a name that encompasses your entire life frame, not just a stupid sexual college indiscretion. i am a loser, i lose at life, i fail at life, everything i do is of no value, i cannot rise above my anonymous number.

Xat: few can. it's like drowning. you realize that you are just a number in a sea of billions of billions of numbers, more than our stars, and you get swallowed up. your opinion has already been said, you are not original, you are just another, and you start to disappear into the crowd. but as you lose your limbs and close your eyes and melt into the fabric of human history, you also melt into the fabric of time and space, the universe quilt, and you say to yourself, "it's okay. what can i do anyways? i can't resist this, i was always part of this, individuality is an illusion, the One is the backdrop, the bones, the pilot light."

Ind: my pilot light is extinguished, that's how it's described in the depression pamphlets, right? we need to explore the stars, it's on the backs of the taxpayers but i don't care, the stars are the new, the frontier, the non-human, the breaking out of the mold, it can be the next paradigm shift the way the fucking internet was a thousand years ago. we need a return to dirt, leaves, grass, water, nature of another planet, another realm. we need to drink and swim in the water naked without drowning.

Xat: that is the birth canal. hey, as a post-Southerner, i think you'll enjoy this clip dug out from ancient time capsules:


Ind: i remember this as if it were today. always turn to the ancients, they have so much to teach us. 1000 years is no years. blessed southern mama, shooting straight and getting to the heart of the matter, a heart pumping with rich-based blood and gooey veins and not a cyber fitting in sight, imploring silly political factions to fight fight always fight for what's right, which is the care of a loved one. there are factions and then there are facts. politics divide and are an illusion. how can an illusion hurt us? nothing matters but a quiet holiday meal with the family. there are factions and then there are fractures. little did we know back then how autism would help us and hurt us. we were able to communicate with autistics finally with tech and saw their intelligence and strength of character, how they saw things in their tower, it prepared us for life now where everyone is a loner hooked up to tech and seeing the world from their tower, not able to communicate with others, all of us locked in our own worlds.

Xat: the government showed the globe we humans were all a little bit autistic, all a little bit crazy, all a little bit mentally ill. savants fascinate me, and the prospect of alien savants...

Ind: Oh God, it's Mom. Mom Is God. that's how i regarded my mother, she was my everything. i was unable to form a separate female relationship that could ever compete.

Xat: how's the weather?

Ind: weather doesn't exist. anymore. controlled. no more hurricanes. nuclear bombs.

Xat: scratch that, how do you like the five new superinstagram filters? my favorite is supercrema.

Ind: i went on there once, liked a picture of a beautiful woman with big breasts who was holding up a phone case in the shape of the Batman symbol, pointy wings and all. i commented how this was the greatest phone case of all time, to which a fellow commenter rejoindered with "until you put it in your pocket." all i could mutter was "touche", i hadn't thought of that, i wasn't clever enough. when you're not the cleverest, when you don't come up with the best comment, your penis shrinks two sizes too small, you feel worthless, not worthy of love, and you turn off superinstagram. i tried again with this woman, i DM'd her and she replied, "i know you're brilliant, but guys and girls can't be just friends, and i already have a boyfriend."

Xat: the crema kinda makes the picture white in a good way.

Ind: white is never good. white denotes a seeing-through, a sham, a ghost, the world was so white for so long, now it is white because all the tech shines white with the sun, it's the gentry, oppression, monotone, one way, everything, every color, the tower, cum. and this is coming from someone who's white, or used to be.

Xat: we are all cyber now. post-racial. the only way to achieve post-racial was to make us post-human.

Ind: i am post post post. my feelings come from another place, another time, another space that is not here. i was born in the wrong era, isn't that also in the pamphlet? i can put this in a post but no one will read it. i can do something drastic but it will be covered up before i do it. i can drape the flag of my cause in the window of my ballleaper but it will be misinterpreted by the hovermedia. did you hear about the recent terrorist attack?

Xat: i have a couple more hours before my cyberbrain resets on that. horrible. shame.

Ind: his ballleaper was emblazoned with the letters CL, for Current Leader. some statement was trying to be made pro or against. it was graffitied wonkily, the letters were singed after the blast and many saw them as GB. seconds after the attack, the trending hashtag on supertwitter was #gumball

Xat: gumball? why?

Ind: why not. it didn't make any sense, much like the terrorist attack. celebrities starting sending gumballs to strangers in the mail, telling them they were in unison with them, we are all One, and that we needed to do better, humanity! Grand Britain was aghast that the terrorist would attack in their name and vowed to clean up the streets with higher brain chips. the creators of the cartoon Gumball made a pro-humanity, anti-terrorist short that went well with the kids.

Xat: love that show. i'm a kid myself, don't know if i can have kids.

Ind: it all gets forgotten, whether willingly or with the reboot. nothing matters, nothing lasts, statements crash down when the next pop star talks about gumballs. this is the only way i can be a global citizen, the big world is made small with technology, it makes you want to learn about every single beautiful person in the world, everyone, don't miss a one, but you end up learning through clever comments and the touch of a screen, not a chest. the pump of a motor, not a heart. a wire not a vein. the world becomes bigger than before. i was so used to seeing humans paraded doing their thing on screen i became comfortable in that space alone. after awhile i didn't like being touched by my mom on the head or face or hair. i have wild hair. i loved seeing Monty Python on screen, but i could never meet Monty Python in real life, that's not on my screen, they're talking to me in open air, this is real, real life, this is foreign, i can't handle it, get back to the small rectangle and the coconut-clapping.

Xat: don't do it. live. live. live. money isn't everything. more money, more problems. different problems, same outcome. yes it's hopeless, i'm reading off the card now, no more pamphlets, i'm starting to realize this, but you live to feel the hopelessness one more day. see, it's not the hopeless part, it's the alive-to-feel-it part.

Ind: world citizen, joining the world by leaving the world, rejecting that which cannot be rejected, a humanity latent in the cold robots we have all become, acting coldly by our cyber parts, in a cold world, needing another programmer, a foreign one to match the foreign of real life, one alien to us, to light the light, a different pilot. only through escape. but there is no escape. is there? we all return to the one reality, all return to what was there all along, what was there before the beginning, and we go "oh yeah, forgot." perhaps that is the thing, we need this painful separation to make the joining again more exhilarating, to make the "oh yeah, i forgot" more acute and shattering, the celestial backbone, the myth of individuality. coming. cumming together. white streak of light, beautiful white, the seed that is planted, the comet we all rode upon to start things. see? i am clever after all. OH WOW, OH WOW


Ind: did you have fun? are you glad you did this?

Xat: noyes yesno

Ind: you learned a lot today. you were helped. that is good. i am sorry about that, it means you can't take the easy way out, you know too much, they know where you live, you can't escape. can't escape. can't escape. can't escape.

Xat felt a deep urge at that moment to take it upon himself to cut through this bullshit conversation before it got too rambly and get to the heart of the matter.

Xat: i am your friend. i mean, i like you, in that way. for what it's worth, i feel ya, we communicated for the better, i understand, connection, point/counterpoint, melting together rather than screaming our heads off on tv. i know.

Ind: i wish you hadn't said that. i won't talk to you again, talk to anyone again. i am glad you were helped. i am the next hot misinterpreted number, wanting so desperately to be the right letter. whatever i do, you won't hear about it. monologue to dialogue to monologue, you will never hear from me again.


Monday, December 15, 2014


1. catharsis: what behavior/activity do you do to achieve catharsis? enema

2. self-affirmation was made popular by that golden SNL character Stuart Smalley (Senator Al Franken): "i'm good enough, i'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me." how do you self-affirm? y'know, it's a comedy bit, but many people chant Stuart's words daily seriously to help them through their day, it's their yoga. for me, it's Stefon, i use whatever Stefon says in his skits as both comedy and methods to live. when Stefon talks about what the latest hot new club is, i go to that location but the club is never there. it's a shame cos i wanted to watch that tv channel in the hotel that's about the hotel. i tried to high-five a child of divorce, dude asked if this was for a prank show or something, i said no, dude took back his down-low high-five and said "too slow."

3. "i knew it all along". what did you know all along? that it was long all along, i just needed to think of you to get it rolled out, thick, hard, hardened, and springy to the touch, get it boingy boingy boing boing boing.

4. daydreaming: what did you last daydream about? i had this dream during the day, i was on a boat going down a stream merrily with not a lot of force. i turned my head to see a fox turn his head and tell me, "chaos reigns." i asked the fox if it's really true that if you die in a dream you die in real life. "no," the fox saged, "but if you die in real life, you live in a dream..."

5. we all have fears. what fear (real or improbable) have you taken steps against to protect yourself? i have a fear of fear. thus, i'm afraid of every single human phobia that exists, and even some fox ones. my most prevalent one is a fear of ketchup. i went on Maury the day that doctor guy was on, y'know the guy who claims he can cure phobias in one minute? he has that unique technique? it was my turn, i went up on stage, and the doctor slapped my mouth and berated me, calling me fucking stupid for having a fear of ketchup. that video now has more youtube views than Justin Bieber's "Baby."

6. relationship-churning: are you in a constant state of an on-again/off-again relationship? why do you think you continue to be in such a topsy-turvy roller-coaster relationship? no. i'm in an on-again/on-again relationship with the fox. see, the fox nodded just now. when i try to tell the fox we might need a break, i need some space to assess and stuff, no, no, see, the fox right now is shaking his head no at me.

bonus: self-monitoring is the ability to both observe (measure) and evaluate one's behavior. it is an important component in human behavior that aids one to measure their behavioral outcomes against a set of standards. what sort of self-monitoring do you do on a regular basis? i had no idea this existed, much less that it was a human thing. i mean where i am right now currently, i'm able to do whatever the hell i want with no consequences whatsoever. if i want to scratch my balls, i do it. if i want to lick my balls, i do it. if i want to play fetch with my balls, i do it. i get on all fours to survey the land better, the marshes by the streambank. what does the fox say? the fox is nodding his head yes at me...



Friday, December 12, 2014


...but it's still a year away. a whole year. do you know how many things can happen in a year? what if the buzz has worn off by then? that won't happen. all you internet bloggers, do me a solid: if you attend an early screening, don't post that it sucks and was a huge disappointment until after the first weekend. after all, don't you want to see the numbers that first weekend? see how much the record is broken? a year is more than enough time to refashion my lightsaber with a crossguard and get medieval on all the freaking busywork that swamped my poor weak Dark-Side-susceptible soul into a Sarlacc Pit this year. this is a year of reflection on why this is the only thing worth living for. next year, i will take in the film and leave the theater with that empty feeling you get after a big meal. what is that horrible feeling? it's that moment humans dread, the what am i going to do immediately next? jedis don't have that problem, their path is always clear. in the meantime,



Wednesday, December 10, 2014


Xat is standing beside a candy dispenser. though it's not required, the glass is still on it so everyone can see the inner machinations like in olden times. very retro, very very retro. Xat even knocks on the glass when the candy starts to slide off but is stuck on the ring. that always seemed to work in the past. learn from your ancients.

Xat: damn thing stole my mack! some things never change.

a kid conveniently enters the scene to add warmth to the lab manager getting colder and colder by the day.

Xat: see that, kid? work your whole life to earn enough for a candybar, and the government takes your hard-earned paycheck. you can't win. not in the end. they getcha. eventually they getcha. best to learn that now before your moldable mind gets hardened with the wetness of ecstasy.

the kid starts to cry, dribbling his tears onto his paper mack. Xat breathes a sigh of relief.

Xat: good sign, all is not lost. i'll punch this thing more on my lunch break, i'm sure by then someone will have made me lazily angry. i promise to get you your candybar.

Xat internally scans the itinerary for the day with his cyber eyes. he was a beautiful baby, one of the first to be born naturally with the cyber eyes already fitted. the government took great pride in this and paraded Xat around like the fucking Gerber baby. his poor parents couldn't refuse, they were poor. authority quickly equalled force to Xat's young mind and has engendered ever since.

Xat (speaking to himself): and now i have the money, prestige, and force of my own to take down my precious government. and most importantly, i have their next Gerber baby.

Ferm: hello? HELLO!!! Earth to Xat!

Xat: oh, i guess i wasn't speaking to myself.

Ferm: you were speaking to yourself, it's just i was here so i heard you speaking to me. we've prepped Tob for today's tests: soothing music, chamomile tea, cheese. he's in the greenhouse.

Xat: progress?

Ferm: our computers are running a simulation on all possible combinations of six different-colored buttons. still haven't come up with the right one. could take all year. or it could happen tomorrow. time is fast or slow but it marches on either way. mind you ours aren't the government computers.

Xat: they're cheaper but that doesn't mean they're worse. had to cut costs somewhere or i would have had to fire my entire staff. i'm willing to do a filler recap episode if it means having another season.

Ferm: and you must maintain your extravagant lifestyle. i don't mind, you spill some of that over into my mouth. quickie tonight? i enjoy being with you rather than having the exercise bot stretch my legs. i swear that bot's jealous of me, she intentionally hits my kneecap.

Xat: it was awesome enough when they fitted machines with human emotions but even awesomer when they gave them sexes.

Ferm: and sex.

a ballleaper crashes into a nearby government building, killing everyone on board and in the building. the fire bots quickly put out the flames but the smoke remains.

Xat: my schedule's pretty open, nohting important going on. how about a longie?

Ferm smiles, pushes her finger on Xat's forehead and walks away.

Xat: yes, enlightened as always. enlightenment always. my third eye is not present yet, not like our friend's.

Xat enters the facility room to the soundrops of


raining down on Tob's head. Tob would put his hands over his ears if he could find them.

Tob: make it stop! change the soundcloud!

Xat: why?

Tob: i appreciate the light mist the atmosphere in here maintains for me, but the music is way off! soothing my alien ass.

Xat: it has a beat.

Tob: it sounds too futuristic. i hate the future. i prefer the classics, i learn more from them, learn where we all came from.

Xat: you hate your future. i hear ya, you want something else to hear. easily solved. i'll pipe some Corgan into the ear if you promise to do something for me.

Tob: a preemptive fuck you to start things off, sir, i've heard about you. you're sadistic the other way. no thank you. i don't know which moneyed boredom is worse, you or the gubmint.

Xat: it's true where's basically doing the same things to do, uh, through you.

Tob: that's not a better correction.

Xat: truth is, i just happen to have more money than the government so i won and won you. it's a golden pissing contest. for the first time in Earth history one person has more money than the government.

Tob: scary.

Xat: necessary. there has to be some counter, some otherness to the government's benevolent rule. thank god for independent thinkers, thinkers independently wealthy who filled my dad's coffers and built me as the ultimate weapon against. i love that word "independent."

Tob: when i supergoogle that word there's a list of only one entry: O'Reilly. i clicked but then i deleted the horror.

Xat: love that word "against." it must be an adversarial competition, not a decaying monolith, otherwise where's the identity, you're only real against the backdrop of your enemy's faulty assumptions about you.

Tob: for now you're more my opponent than my enemy, until you start torturing me.

Xat: i think of it as an enhanced way to get to the truth faster, and i paid to have my thoughts worth more. let's get this over with, i have a hot date.

Tob: you've read my mind, in the colloquial sense, not the actual sci-fi-reality sense.

Xat sticks a hard black stick with an exposed face of silver cyberchips into the top side of Tob's wet white square which is more and more stretched to a rectangle. Xat touches all around Tob's shape, tracing Tob's outline with his fingers, pointing his points with his points.

Xat: don't take this the wrong way, but my friend, you are one exquisite blockhead.

Tob: not your friend, but i am the savant without the idiot. i've lived too long.

Xat: you've seen things. you know things. that's what we're counting on. i never noticed your face before now that i'm upclose. only saw you on the screens. i love that long stringy graying hair you have, touching it you'd think it was strangely human, the hair of a strange human, very rock-star sage, very wizened wise hippie finally feeling the effects of all that pot.

Tob: again i say there are worse of your human tropes to emulate than hippie. i'm proud of that.

Xat: and do you have a third eye on your forehead? am i that blind to what's happening around me?

Tob: could be. either it's influenza or affluenza. either way, it's hard to not only care about yourself when you live only in your one human body. my third comes and goes, it grows when it wants to, when i start seeing things differently.

Xat: may it always stay open. stay open.

Xat sticks another stick into Tob's mouth.

Tob (mumbling): this one hurts.

Xat: it hurts you more than it hurts me. this is for progress, we all must bear the brunt, we all must share the pain and sacrifice. unlike my colleague Ferm's soft motherly methods, this won't be a benign computer simulation hooked up to wires. now that the implants are firmly into you, i can connect with my cyber brain directly into your mainframe and see which patterns of your buttons are more likely than not to find something. it's not a naked this one didn't work, try the next number, i'm processing large groups of numbers at a time.

Tob: yeah, and when that group is not producing results, i get a shock in my mouth.

Xat: it's a vibrant way to let us both know that's not the path we should be on, to quickly veer to this path of color combos, all in the name of efficiency.

Tob: an electric way. waste not, want not. this is such a waste. you humans wasted so much irrecoverable potential. i do not want this.

Xat: a classic. come on, buddy, you can do this. are you sensing anything?

Tob: oh, aw, AHHHHHHHHH, THIS FUCKING PAIN PAINS MY HURT!!! i wish my Spidey sense was real so i could end this.

Xat: you can't end this, only i can. where is the ore? where is the ore?

Tob: somewhere out there in the galaxy. processing. i have something, i think, in the Unknown Galaxy, a star system with three rocks, one of them is yielding results even after three rounds of false-positive tests.

Xat: good, good, what is it?

Tob: kdot.

Xat laughs internally but only outwardly shows his tired smile to the misting greenhouse room. he makes a call completely inside his cyber brain without having to move a digit or a muscle.

Xat: this is gonna take awhile, have to gather certain people who are on vacation golfing on the moon and whatnot, coordinate schedules, it's a pain, you know how it is.

Tob: no i do not. i know pain. what are these hellish sticks in me called?

Xat: listen, i'm tired of this bullshit. it's time for all of us to work. we have to protect our home and all this glorious technology. time to stand up and not just coast. this is a glorious time to be alive, the future is now, and we all will have a future as long as we see what's in front of us.

Tob: no idea what you're babbling on about. please regale me with a work story, anything to distract me from being stuck immovably in this all-encompassing cast of torturous terror.

Xat: i'll take the newayz sticks slightly out of you for the moment, not all the way out but some so your mind is clear for my story. this experience made me who i am today.

Tob: then it wasn't a good thing. all experiences shape an individual, good ones, bad ones, big ones, little ones, especially the ones which don't happen.

Xat: no, it wasn't good, it wasn't good for him. i was one of the only humans left who still manned a suicide-prevention hotline...



Monday, December 8, 2014


see this Walt Disney World pic right above here? i got it from Fox News. as you can see, Goofy's thinkin' bout it...

1. your favorite travel companion is: *drumroooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooollllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll* you

2. i pass time on a plane by: masticating.

3. my favorite part of my travel routine is: masticating with my fellow passengers. we compare notes mid-flight. we gather round at the Circle J. Circle K, excuse me, they are the food-and-drink sponsor of this particular carrier. surprisingly good airplane food. lots of nuts eaten.

4. are you or your travel companion the primary planner for the trip itinerary? and during the days of the trip/holiday? we're an equal household so i let her plan the trip beforehand and then i micromanage each day of her plan. that works out fine. except one time she beautifully planned out our entire week for Bangkok and i thought she said Band Camp...

5. in 2014, how many times did you travel for leisure? for business? i'm in the business of leisure, so i combine the two, it's the same thing for me. i'm still working on that novel so i don't have time to travel. i travel in my imagination but i consider that a business expense cos it's for the book.

6. in 2014, how many times did you travel more than 100 miles from home? out of your county/state/region but remained in your country? i live on an island not associated with any country. no man is an island so i started walking to find another soul. i would walk 500 miles...i would if i could but there's water everywhere...

7. in 2014, did you ever say fuck it and leave the country? where did you go? my lawyer says i can't talk about that.

8. do you use a travel agent? why or why not? no, but a travel agent used me. for my body. right there in the middle of the mall. we rolled around past her kiosk and ended up in the food court. those white floors are deceptively dirty. shared a Sbarro. Panda Express mascot guy kept staring at us. i think he was staring at us, it's hard to tell when he's wearing that big panda head. had to cool off in the penny fountain.

9. what's your perfect holiday season? gettin' the fuck out and traveling or staying home with friends and family? the Simpsons just taught us that your family may be hard but it's harder being without a family during the holidays. don't listen to "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas," studies show that's the number one song people have in the background during the holiday season when they...nevermind...go ahead, listen to the song, it's a classic. merry festivus everyone.

bonus: which all-expenses-paid travel destination listed below works best with your interests and why?


those that know me know Walt Disney is my hero, it's carried over from childhood, he made me a magical child and that feeling will never leave me. if i were a betting man, i'd say............the second one, the name is exotic and i love grotto spas. love anything grotto really. went to the Playboy Grotto with Sad Keanu as you can see up top. that pic proves it happened. long story short, he was still Sad even after that. but on the car ride back, he started to perk up again. he claims it was the coffee but i know better, it was when i started singing that Frozen song. see? Disney is still with us, frozen somewhere.



Friday, December 5, 2014


yes, you are the focus of an intervention. but remember, the ones doing the intervening are just as scared as you are right now.



Wednesday, December 3, 2014


the future is one of those things. when you witness a vision of the future onscreen in the present, you gawk and awe and imagine yourself there, imagine you are anywhere else, because where you are is horrible, things are the worst, they've never been this bad, and technology just highlights the deep problems more clearly. there is no solution, that's what the leaders don't realize, or rather they do realize this. there is a solution: escape. now when you are in that future, or rather when you are in a future, it's not quite like the movies. if only life could be like the movies. when you are in the future, say 1000 or so years from the time you saw that sci-fi epic for the first time in your one hometown dungy dark filmhouse on a cracked screen at noon on the day when there is no sunlight, the awe isn't there. it's just your normal present. the flickering of the bad film and the flickering of your imagination have given way to rote. that is to say bad film quality, not bad film. humans are capable of many things, but their most damning is the ability to forget the wondrous, to categorize miracles, the rush to make everything in the universe known and criticized. the four-leaf clover goes from the open fields to a a lab beaker to a studio for all to enjoy, digitally, on the internet. humans are tiring like that. there is a need in this time of the future, 1000 years hence, for more than human. not superhuman, we tried that once and it was all too human. we humans are all dried up, we need an alien perspective, a wet alien perspective, the perspective from a wet alien.

Ferm (glistening sparkles coming off her cyber eyes): that's it, that's it, gentle as a baby engineer's bottom, lower the winch onto the platform.

the nameless workers with dark eyes, which is to say they didn't have enough mack for cyber eyes so that area was left dark, manipulated the invisible white lasers, or rather pushed the necessary buttons to have the computer gently lay the boxed white specimen down on the pod. the thing was boxed but for a moment, the invisible forcefield became visible and freed it, and it could move around again. it squirmed and tossled and protruded its T-rex arms and protruded them back and generally went back into its square shape. it was soaking wet from being dunked in water tests and was shivering.

Ferm: Tob, it's me, Ferm. all requisite language barriers are broken, the translators are in place overhead, all the sci-fi junk is taken care of by the usual computers as usual, we can really talk now. you won't be hurt. i know you've heard that before. the CL is a bastard, i didn't vote for him not that that matters, they poked and proded you because that's what they see in ancient bad sci-fi, they wanted to make sure you weren't a bomb. i live in the real world, this world of sci-fi, i bleed like you, i think. i'm a woman of science, i am all science, reason, and rationale, not a hint of messy human emotion. i want to study you in another way, as equals, you tell me about you and i'll tell you about me, me and my boring life. i'm here to help. i care about keeping you alive and well.

Tob's real shape was unknown, even to him. all Tob had known since he last regained consciousness was life in a cage, having eyes on him constantly, dirty filthy human eyes. the bad scientists, the ones who worked for the CL, didn't regard him as human. he wasn't human, but he wasn't an animal. they lab-tested him to death, figuring out his breaking point, carrying him to the edge of rage and anger and explosiveness and then dialing it back just enough so he would be bendy again. it's no wonder Tob assumed this square shape, it was some sort of alien fetal position. he didn't trust anyone, he didn't trust the humans who had fished him from space, he didn't trust the government but that was a given, he didn't want to do anything for his captors, he wanted to go home, but he didn't know where home was.

Tob: let me stop you right there. i don't care about your mission. i want to be returned to my kind. please tell me i have a home planet. please tell me i'm not another statistic, not another cliche, not another one of those who is the last of his kind. i want to settle down with a nice female of my kind, get off the internet, delete all blogs, stop lifecasting my usless life, and live in peace and quiet.

Ferm: i know it doesn't feel like it, but you are lucky. you've been through it and survived. it's easy street from now on. yes, the government wanted to keep you under permanent lock and key until you died serving them for their nefarious money-making schemes. we here at this lab also believe you are the key to our survival, but we recognize your worth, we praise it, we worship you as a god because that's what you are, our savior.

Tob: oh god, i'd barf if i was biologically able to, that's even worse! see to the right of my face, where my face melts into the block? there's a panel of six buttons there: red, green, yellow, turquoise, black, and white. go ahead and push any one of those, or push three at a time, combo them, do the Konami code on them, see if anything happens. i've forgotten what they do, obviously, thanks to your government's amnesia sticks.

Ferm: you're strong, you are here and able to remember about your amnesia so they didn't get all of you. your soul is intact and the soul is all. thanks to our generous benefactor, or rather his son, we were able to buy your freedom. you are worth a pretty penny but what is money really if the planet is doomed. we bought you from your federal shackles and now you are in our care. Tob, you are a very have the singular ability to locate rich mineral resources all around outer space. our planet has dried up from its arrogance and denial, we need these resources to mend the gaping ozone layer and fill our rivers back. time is not on our side, we wasted our precious years glorifying ourselves and winning elections, there is no future in this future, the future is now. without you, our blue ball will explode.

Tob: not my problem. i'd shed a tear if i could. humanity is getting what it deserves. can't you all just zoomjet off the surface and seek another homeworld?

Ferm: oh you have been asleep, huh. we tried, we tried colonizing on the moon but that place is forever owned by oil barons who snap continuous instagram pics of themselves in space suits nailing holes-in-one on their lunar golf courses. the entire surface of the moon isn't made of cheese, i wish it were, it's now 153 contiguous golf courses. we tried Mars, but after all this time, Mars still needs another 1000 years before the gas process we laid on it by redirecting comets makes the air breathable and the water drinkable. we explored and explored, two solar systems over, but our hearts have been broken every time: there wasn't another race except us silly humans.

Tob: space violins. what about the Hgilthasians?

Ferm: yes but they're more pets, though they did lead us to you. they sniffed out a certain Dog star cluster where you were hiding, sleeping. they have incredible noses but only in a very tiny concentrated area, they can't infinite-scan the way you can. you can locate a small piece of ore 1000 light years away.

Tob: 1000 is the standard. i wish my amnesia came back. i don't want these powers, i want to be normal.

Ferm: you are normal my dear, normal to you, we are the freaks, unfortunately the freaks outnumber. don't think of yourself as special, think of yourself as the one charged with saving the world.

Tob: your world, not mine. when do we get started? let's get this over with.

Ferm: it will take some more time than a second. the answer must lie in one of these buttons, right? everything is insta-click these days, more so than before, the greatest answers are the simplest ones. it's gotta be as easy as pushing your buttons, right?

Tob: don't count on it. the buttons are there, but what is the correct combination? the brilliantly sadistic gubmint docs couldn't figure it out, so why will you? speaking of cheese and the moon and the government and everything, where's my gubmint cheez?

Ferm: worry not, you'll be fed and bathed and upkept. what do you eat? don't tell me, i don't want the answer to be human flesh. yes, one of the drawbacks of the food machines: pills for every occasion, unlimited pills, but because the government doesn't have to anymore bear the burden of feeding its ungrateful citizens, all of that gold is hoarded by the central office, where the CL sleeps. technology wins again.

Tob: the biggest loss was the art of cooking, lost to a one-size-fits-all plastic cup of mechanized pills for each growing boy and girl each day, no savoring a bite of chicken in your mouth, letting your saliva mix with the chicken juices, feeling the drink of a too-cold cola enlarging your adam's apple and making your long breath short as it passes down your gullet, crystalizing your stomach with its wintery wind.

Ferm: no adam's apple for me, small one, eve's apple. at this point i envy the kids, they get more pills than we adults who actually don't need to swallow pills anymore, it's all done through wifi by the government computers, regulated during our sleeps.

Tob: when i get out of here, i have one demand for my spaceship home. no, not green M&Ms, i want a personal chef to prepare all my meals. get me Ramsay's descendant on speed dial.

Ferm: become what you want, an ancient saying i still hold in my memory banks. you should just go to school to become a chef. i'd eat at your restaurant. guys, let's move him to the greenhouse, it's more serene and tranquil over there, more green, you'll at least have lush scenery to look at as we perform on you. let the tests commence.

Tob: yes, by all means, come on boys, lift me to the promised land. i don't remember being a treehugger, but i suppose there are worse relics from your planet that could use some reviving. let the button-mashing begin!

by the lab a ballleaper whizzes by, manufactured by LLL LLC. it wasn't that special, Xat's ballleaper was among many in the sky in celebration of the CL's birthday. sky traffic is the big problem/campaign issue these days. a ballleaper is run by a ball in the engine that is modeled after the ball that Tyson offered as the size of the ball of everything at the moment before the Big Bang. Xat is with an unknown female companion as usual and they are joyriding like tardy schoolchildren down any lane they can find, which aren't many since the sky is congested. the sky is filled with a monotone gold, all the ballleapers look exactly the same, they are all manufactured by the same company after all. Xat's looks exactly like them, too, except for what's on the inside. look under the hood and you see that there's an extra component to Xat's ball, Xat's ball is bigger.

girl: you are crazy today. i like crazy.

Xat: don't sip my wick in crazy. it's all the xtra juice for the empty ceremony. it comes but once a year so everyone gets in their ballleapers and riles up. sky accidents increase tenfold but no tickets are written cos it's the cops who are in most of the accidents. everyone smiles and exchanges insurance information. nothing can bring us down. it's the most wonderful time of the year.

girl: turn up the ear, i can't see anything.

Xat: i'd rather keep it manual, i feel this DJ speaks to me.

the DJ (over the radio): boys and girls out there, this one's for you. children, lucky children, you are our future, so you deserve the best. only the finest music for you, educate your litle minds so you can lead us to the stars. i'm a hack, a has-been, the sky is cluttered with the old and frail, we are done, you young must pick up the electric guitar and make new music, fill outer space with new chords, new melodies, new combinations of notes never heard before, we need new perspectives. ha ha, talk about a time capsule, i dug this one out just in time for Christmas. we must always celebrate our space heritage, kids, never forget the sci-fi lineage we come from: the names, the giants, the titans, the USSs, the sabers, the lores, we can still achieve our dreams, film fantasies lit by stars, but only you can achieve your dreams now, kids. never forget the classics, kids. don't do drugs unless it's the good stuff, the stuff that propels you forward, makes you dream and sing and drum and and bass and lyric,


girl: you want to crash, huh?

Xat: i'm a wild man, baby.

Xat's ballleaper manages to loop-de-loop and swerve and trade paint with all the rest of the ballleapers in the sky while still managing to stay in its lane. there's a digitized hush as the CL's Christmas message comes on the screens. Xat's ballleaper shoots lasers at the screens, cracking them.

girl (nervous laugh): dude, what are you doing? i didn't know i was seeing an anarchist.

Xat: celebrating, just celebrating, i can afford it, it's Christmas, hopeful time of year, i'm hopeful, he's hopeful, i voted for the guy, we're all hopeful for more years. see?

Xat points to other ballleapers letting their lasers point upward creating fireworks which blanket the silicon valley with bright reds and yellows and turquoises and blacks.

CL (with bug eyes): it's okay, folks, i'm here. hang onto my every word or hang. i feel that pain, i would feel your pain there of that hanging. i feel your pain, i am one of you, i drink your beer, i am your father, son, brother who died in the war, grandpa who tells crazy stories cos he's senile and also the grandfather who tells lucid stories of the war. we don't want to go back, we have to go forward. forward, always forward. that's why we have kids. hehehe. generations will continue, no more of this gloom talk, it's Christmas, celebrate by buying only from small-business shops, they voted for me en bloc so i'm contractually obligated to say that. i am your leader, take anyone to me, i'm the modern modern modern modern modern-day Solomon, i have all the answers, i've read everything on the internet, i'm wise, cut the children in half, have less kids if you can't care for them, we're putting all of our resources into finding more resources. Christmas's gonna be tight this year but it's still Christmas. eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die. egg nog doesn't exist anymore and i am sorry for that but that was the fault of the last administration. what do you have to be sad about? look at all this glorious technology at our feet! the technology gets better and better, making us smile wider and wider. technology makes life easier, what little life is left and genuine and not fitted with cyber parts. go out and spend some time at the greenhouse, the last greenhouse on Earth, breathe in the real unfiltered air, not too many inside the greenhouse at once or all the air will run out. remember, you are valuable, you are valuable to us, you are not a number, you are a number of different things: mother, daughter, sister, mysterious woman, receptacle, beaker, lab experiment which will change the world. remember, you voted for me, i am here to stay. remember, as you live this life, look not toward the end end end, or at the beginning because you can't live in the past, look at the middle of your life, look at your middle, that's where the sex organs are, at least in humans, don't know about aliens. don't look to the end, the end is coming, the end of our fait accompli, the end of the search, we will find the groceries we need to survive, as the team's coach says: if you want me to make the meal, find me the groceries. we will discover a new world to settle on, we have to settle on some rock, beggars can't be choosers. one team, one game, one gameday, one race, the human race, we're in this together, not to the end, not the end, end end end END TRANSMISSION



Monday, December 1, 2014


1. a person of sexy whose sexy you admire says to you "let's do something wild together." what do you choose to do? world peace.

2. Whip Your Vagina Into Shape. sounds hot, huh? but it wasn't what everyone thought. anywho, how do you want to get your pussywhipped into shape?

a) stinging spanking by hand
b) kegel balls
c) SM master/mistress with a whip

true story: i was eating my brown bag lunch on my first day at the new job, outside by the breezing patio. dude comes up and sits by me with his cheese and crackers. tailored shirt, not a hair out of place. he says his name is Ben. as a joke, i told him his last name couldn't be Wa, could it? it was. it was. rather than be awkward, it strengthened our bond. ironically, during the remaining minutes of our break, it was i who introduced Ben Wa to Ben Wa balls.

3. when in a relationship, how do you get free and some "me" time alone? i tell my hand that we had our fun, but it must be a professional: only holding things like pencils and smashing buttons on computers and video-game controllers from now on.

4. which of these cause the most grief and fighting between you and your SO?:
a) in-laws
b) stepchildren
c) finances
d) housekeeping

i've always felt like the ugly stepchild so i have an empathy for children of the step. i formed a hip-hop collective stepping troupe, we danced at malls and stuff until the Santas got jealous and booted us out with their heavy black boots. this causes fighting cos i'm never home.

5. what's your break-up style?

a) dramatic exit: pissing and moaning and venting to your ex over everything she did wrong.
b) coolly and upfrontly letting her know it's not working out.
c) slowing down the mutual time, easing out, fading away, disappearing forever without a word.

C is my style, but i would NEVER break up with someone, that pain is too much for a human soul to cope with. i'd stick it out through the rough waters, especially if she's hot, letting her be the captain of the ship to my deckswabber with the striped shirt. the rest of the peg-legged fellas would join in the communal beer and round-singing below deck, but i'd be up high atop the crow's nest alone staring at the moonlight, talking to myself, wondering if i'll ever be good enough to swab her deck again.

6. break-up text, there's an app for that. it's cruel, cold, and just 99 cents. none of you would ever break up via text, but if you did, how would it read?

finding your soul mate is as easy as clicking on Cyber Monday spam. just 99 cents, no hidden charges. click on my profile pic and i'll send you my email. all of our dates are paid for by the government. act fast, act now, this week only, Taco Bell is offering their reheated taquitos for only 99 cents, click on my profile pic to get started.

bonus: would you like you if you met you? it's not about the liking, it's about the scientific discovery. you don't like everyone in your office but you make do. not everyone can be Ben Wa. do you think Einstein liked the people he worked with? they were probably all backstabbers leaping at every opportunity to steal his ideas and get them published before he could. clones are big business, click on my profile pic to get started with your patent, just 99 cents upfront...



Friday, November 28, 2014


"it must be the tryptophan" i implored my guardian. he was my guardian so he'd know the answers. "no," he replied, "this is indie theatre". "with an "re"?," i asked innocently. "yes, that's what it's about," he mentioned, "with an ie, otherwise we'd be an Indianapolis Colt." i wide-opened my anime eyes and beheld the art and started to water. too much cider. "this is so lovely," i stammered, "i've never seen such freedom." "you're not seeing it," he learned me, "you're feeling it." "am i trippin' on tryptophan?," said i, "this can't be real." "yes and no," is the learned reply, "yes cos it's in the name, no cos those two things can exist at once." "leave me here, " i explored, "i want to pursue my calling. i hereby relieve you of your guardianship." "you do need to relieve, " he smiled, "but that's not how it works. today is a gigantic shopping day, today is not like other days and shopping days, today is for giants, for gigantics, do you want me to buy you a tv with a screen so gigantic it doesn't fit into the Earth?" "no," i boomed, "that's bad for the environment. happy weekend, go on and gorge yourself. i'm fulfilled by my little itty bitty self on this hard wooden chair that's two sizes too small. the uncomfortableness allows me not to fall asleep, to keep my senses sharp so i can overanalyze what i see later. these are my people, this is my troupe, i finally belong. i want to be an indie actor one day, i want to perform in front of a man and his guardian in an empty theater, i want the audience to feel uncomfortable. when they don't know when to clap, when they laugh only nervously, i know i have done my job. art for art's sake is the greatest Christmas miracle of all. go on, i have my tv right here in front of me. i don't need a plug."