It was not all that long ago that fire and wildlife meant everything to mankind. And just because we’re not into that boring shit anymore doesn’t mean we can’t still pretend to appreciate 35,000-year-old cave paintings in this news article.
Before seamless.com all humans sustained themselves through hunting, fishing or gathering (get a phone, Cro-Magnons!), according to Dr. Mann Lee Troubadox of the Lebal Drocer Institute for Cellular Data Technology. Troubadox, with his team of nameless indigenous children, recently discovered a swathe of cave paintings that revealed just how boring life was before the newly-refined iPhone X.
“We listened to consumers and wish to assure you the new features contained in the iPhone X Plus will piss on Samsung’s barbaric emoji keyboard, as Calvin would defiantly piss upon a Ford icon or – if you’re a Jeff Gordon fan – a Chevrolet bow-tie,” Troubadox said. “My team attempted to downvote every painting on the cave walls, whether it was for a lack of attention to important details, or the artist failed to capture the aesthetic that a Snapchat filter might’ve offered – or for other reasons – like if the painting was offensive, off-topic, or painted in the wrong sub-cave.”
While the Android world is making strides every day in camera technology, it took hundreds of thousands of years for cave paintings to move away from uninteresting tales about hunter/gatherer lifestyle, and into cool shit like marking the sudden appearances of supernovae: star explosions that were once inaccurately attributed to God, before woke cave painters like Banksy could hear Carl Sagan auto-tuned.
Though we are likely two months out from seeing the next iPhone, Troubadox and his team are working tirelessly to scan and publish cave paintings, as if they are even remotely worth looking at when there’s so much cool stuff happening right now on Instagram.
“Instagram pictures aren’t just square, anymore. The introduction of rectangles to the platform has revolutionized the way people share,” Troubadox said. “We hope to recreate some of these paintings for upload to Instagram where they can be dismissed with the same apathy as the uninspired, insipid, low-resolution shit already on there. We want these cave paintings treated like pictures of your slutty friends and stuff. Jerk off to them, and move on.”
“Did you see that guy do a sick loop in his stolen commercial airliner before committing suicide?” writes a reddit user. “Press F to pay respects.”
The caves, after being documented, will be demolished to make way for a planned 2021 extension to the Short Pump Mall in Richmond, Virginia.
Hotwheels, the operator of an alternative imageboard generator, has gone missing after reports surfaced that Frederick Brennan – an intellectual powerhouse – is the engine propelling #QAnon and shepherds The Message all the way to the President’s rallies in Numbnuts, Florida.
They were smart people, because they were on acid. You have to have a god damn PhD in Chemistry just to take that stuff.
Dr. Armstrong H. Troudabour
The disappearance, while newsworthy, is unsurprising.
Brennan participates in the imageboards created on his platform, and has indicated in the past plans to escape off the grid, “should the axe ever come down.”
The axe is fallen, mon frere. Release the second report!
Anyone with information relating to Brennan’s whereabouts are urged to contact the Internet Chronicle News Desk, at (917) 675-4836. Warning: He is dangerous. He is a walking weapon.
Read the #QAnon report here first: The #QAnon Report II — What Will the President Do?
INTERNET– Tuesday, an Anonymous hacker and researcher known only as Sabu 2.0 posted the secret identity of QAnon on the underground hacker website pastebin.
With the use of Barrett Brown’s powerful Pursuance software, Sabu 2.0 — who has hinted at an inside affiliation with Mueller’s FBI investigation — tracked QAnon down as part of Anonymous operation #OpQ.
Sabu 2.0 wrote, “Simply put, QAnon is a psyop organized by Frederick Brennan, the founder of 8chan. He has been receiving inside information on the Trump Administration after hacking Steve Bannon’s phone,” wrote Sabu 2.0 in the press release posted on the hacker website pastebin.
Sabu 2.0 concluded his release with the typical Anonymous collective signoff, writing, “We are Anonymous. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Q should have expected us.”
Dr. Angstrom H. Troubador, digital anthropologist, told reporters, “Frederick Brennan came up with the idea for 8chan while tripping on psychedelic mushrooms and experiencing a ‘cosmic’ level of rage at rumors that game developer Zoe Quinn was sleeping with several prominent men in the gaming community. His reason for orchestrating the QAnon psyop likely stems from a similar reactionary rage coupled with drug abuse.”
The original Sabu, former hacker overlord of the Anonymous collective, was outed as an FBI agent by investigative reporters at Internet Chronicle in 2012. Sabu, now known as Hector Monsegur, declined to comment but has no apparent connections to Sabu 2.0.
Sup Broski? Dr. Trubes here and have I got a Hot Heaping Helping of Summer Health Tips for YOU!
Reading totally blows dicks, but stay with me, betacucks, and you’ll come out on the other side a stronger, healthier, and more dominant, Alpha Male.
Keep a buff summer body by poking yourself with steroids on a regular basis. But remember: If you’re not yet yelling at your best friends, you still haven’t taken enough.
Stay flexible by all the time looking over your shoulder. There might not be anybody there wanting to hurt you this time, but now your neck is limber and taught!
Use DMT. The dream molecule makes veteran fighter Joe Rogan STRONGER than a mule, because spiritual gains translate directly into muscle mass, bro. If you will it, dude, it is no dream!
How to get a six pack
Can you lift Steel? Go to any corner store and pay a man $15. Buy something with pep: Steel Reserve. Just kidding! *(we have fun here) And before we move on–
[THIS JUST IN]
CHRONICLE.SU RECALL ALERT
A popular pharmaceutical called TerrorMax has been recalled after reports the medicine was made in a laboratory situated on a uranium spill site. When Lebal Drocer Pharmaceuticals acquired the disaster area in 2013, they promised to use the site only for experiments, and not mass production.
An inside source close to the laboratory insists the drug was recalled because “the effect is unintentional.”
“It’s not necessarily bad,” the source said, “but you will get cancer in your pituitary gland.”
“Day and night we heard trucks dumping in the river,” Melody said. “Now everybody’s sick with Pituitary Strength TerrorMax. We didn’t ask for this! We bought REGULAR TerrorMax!”
It is now well known the site has been used as a medium scale production facility since at least March 2017, when Pituitary Strength TerrorMax was first introduced into Asian test markets.
News reporters gathered outside the Troubadour Hotel want to know:
Who are you wearing?
“Oh this? I’m wearing Gucci, baby. Ya piece of shit. And that’s my Lambo. It might lack the performance of a Ferrari. That’s because it’s a style car.
I’m Dr. fuckin’ Troubadour. You’re sick. Pay me.”
That’s Fake News
“Dr. Troubadour gave me a prescription for percocets.”
Every week I put my life in this doctor’s soft, soft hands.
I don’t trust a man who won’t bang horse with me from the same needle. I trust Dr. Troubadour.
ROANOKE, VA — For children, reading or being read to during the summer months is a great way to keep their language skills sharp while out of school and to prevent the dreaded ‘Summer Slide’ into the same ignorance, apathy and mediocrity that is characteristic of the adults in charge.
In an effort to combat summertime ignorance, Lebal Drocer Indoctrination held a Scholastic Book Fair at Green Valley Elementary, where good Christian white children are known to go to school. The fair, held across various cities over the weekend, introduced children to new books for the modern kid, including such titles as Cayden’s Internet Daddy, The Bitcoin That Could, and strategy guides for livestream mumble rapping.
A six-year-old boy named Austin left with a plastic bag full of books and magazines (which is going straight into the ocean).
“We got to read about Derrick’s Two Mommies,” Austin said. “I got to the end and it was nice to see everybody getting along. But I am six. And I could not give a shit about somebody else’s lesbian parents.”
James, a seventh grader from New Bern, North Carolina, said he had already checked out every book in the library pertaining to his interests in UFOs and tales of space genocide, when he finally picked up a title he’d been avoiding all year: Judy Blume’s coming-of-age classic, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.
“On the cover it was some girl praying next to her bed, which – I don’t know – that looks and sounds like boring religious crap to me. All the adults acted like the book is a really big deal though, so I checked it out. It didn’t take long for me to return it. Actually I still don’t know what it was about. All I remember is it was really, really boring.”
James said that although Margaret’s strife felt alien and otherworldly in itself, he appreciated Blume’s insistence on dramatizing the long-winded, bland non-events of his peers, and got interested in other stories about chicks having periods.
“At the book fair I got a book that says Native American women – the rightful owners of this land – would go chill out in a hut during their periods. This was sacred time. Again, very boring, but this could be my new fetish. Who knows? I’m 12.”
The Lebal Drocer Scholastic Book Fair concluded around 4 a.m. Monday, with a ceremonial book burning, accompanied by a reading from Glenn Beck’s critically-acclaimed barnburner, The Overton Window.
What’s up assholes! Resident Astrologian Dr. Angstrom H. Trubladoor here, and have I got a horoscope column for you! These horoscopes, unlike the artificial horoscopes found in fake news tabloids, are certifiable guideposts for a healthy spirit, as written by the stars themselves, and interpreted by me. You can’t make this shit up, folks. I’m an expert!
Now I’ll be god damned if I’m going to let you go through this life in spiritual darkness. Rise up, and assume your place at Fortune’s Wheel, for the fortunes told in this month’s horoscopes are as good as gold. I’ll stake your pissant lives on it!
A torturous family barbecue is in store on the 15th–and you’re on the menu! People will subtly suggest they thought you’d be doing something better by now, and are not unpleasantly surprised with your overall decline into mediocrity. On the 19th, don’t settle for this. Suspend contact with these people until Venus exits Sagittarius.
Your lucky numbers: 30, 52 and 7
The Moon in your sign on the 17th gives you a romantic glow. Family finances may get a boost on the 18th, but they will cut you out of it. Watch CNN for clues how to operate your own desert sex and murder cult.
Your lucky number: 0
On the 15th, the Full Moon illuminates the blessings in your relationships. You will give all earthly possessions to Internet Chronicle and await further orders. Spite-inducing planets are in cahoots on the 19th–so shoot for the stars! Donate all your money, too. Make us filthy fucking rich!
Your lucky number: $1,000
Career-savvy monsters will exploit your talents on the 18th! On the 20th and 21st, the Moon in your sign helps you express your personal sadness. Your regrets are too strong to reminisce, as you march another month closer to death.
Your lucky numbers: Would not help in this situation (you’re on your own!)
On the 15th, a cosmic boost gives you the courage to make important changes at work. Make a good night’s sleep a priority on Sunday, because come Monday morning you’ll want to show up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to fire a gas powered carbine rifle into your coworkers! The 20th is a sick day, and everyone’s out with a permanent case of the Mondays! A rave review in the press will fill your hateful heart with pride.
Your lucky numbers: 30, 911 and The 2nd
Lovely Venus shines in your home zone, inspiring harmony among your inner demons and helping you beautify your abode! On the 21st, a dinner with friends goes awkwardly, but you will never learn why. Avoid eye contact with any Pisces you may know.
Your lucky number: GET OUT scrawled in blood across an old shirt you haven’t worn in 12 months.
Venus enters Sagittarius on the 18th, making romance extra uncomfortable for all parties involved. Get that crazy look out of your eyes and stop staring people into capitulation. You don’t know what people are saying about you, but it’s worse than you think.
Your lucky number: 18+
Your cash flow improves dramatically starting on the 21st! Avoiding the police will help you dodge any drama and go down in history with the notoriety you deserve!
Your lucky number: 1EELAi2iWeRzQTcbgLLZPfVHiSQ9VhgurD
Unexpected romance surprises you on the 15th when the Aries Full Moon lights up your pussy hole. Your rotten soul is made whole again when you-know-who notices you did something new with your hair. Fun, regrettable decisions are coming your way!
Your lucky numbers: 17, 22 and 3/5
The 19th inspires a wave of clarity that helps you see what a failure you are. Saturn in Sagitarrius reminds you to disregard any positive, uplifting thoughts–you’re in a downward spiral!
Your lucky number: fibonacci
The 15th is a wonderful time to begin a new family tradition that’ll bring everyone closer. On the 20th, watch for subtle cues from Mom and Dad!
Your lucky number: 69
On the 18th, Venus boosts your power level, making you impervious to bullets! The Cancer Moon connects you and your mate emotionally on the 20th and 21st. Watch for headaches.
Your lucky numbers: 18, 21 and 62
What’s in the stars for the heartthrobs?
Billy Ray Cyrus
This country icon is a true Aquarius at heart, which means he plays by his own rules! After recently departing from his longtime father-daughter relationship, he’ll continue to keep friends and fans close–depending on them for independence! Billy Ray wants to open a seafood restaurant chain.
Watch out y’ol’ hound dog! Herpes is real.
After appearing in cult classics Reality Bites and Before Sunset, Ethan Hawke found his place among the stars, but sun doesn’t shine on Hawke anymore, whose planets are in the wrong house.
Ethan, you’re finished. Way to suck at astrology, bro. Grow a sign. I mean, wow, what a good-looking man! But talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Astrology is not always kind.
After a starring role in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas propelled teen heartthrob Johnny Depp into stardom, he was free to create art from the soul, and so he began shooting a series of pirate films in the underground scene, which only got picked up when a relatively obscure studio Disney agreed to distribute the films under a new name: Cocaine Boat Party.
Now, ol’ Gemini Johnny’s slinging glasses with megastars like Jack Nicholson, Harry Manglove, and Amber Heard.
The Internet Chronicle is able to bring you sweet weekly horoscopes thanks to advancements in Terror Max research and development. The all new Terror Max Extended Hate now comes in a film that dissolves under the tongue!
MONTREAL – A man resembling Doug Benson, host of the critically-acclaimed “podcast” (iPod Broadcast) Getting High With Doug, was seen wearing a large, but not too large, red nazi flag tee shirt. The incident happened outside the Just For Laughs comedy festival venue in Monstreal. Montreal is a state in Canada. Canada sort of has states like the US, but they’re larger, and there are fewer of them. Also, they’re called provinces.
What the fuck, Doug?
“You’re better than this.”
Millions of fans took to Facebook and YouTube to vent outrage after a photo of the disgraced comic went viral, which is what newspapers will say tomorrow, after we publish this story. Many will be posting youtube comments, tweeting about hashtags, and burning vinyl copies of Benson’s specials in front of schools and churches.
Benson is one of dozens of important hate comics unmasked so far in 2018. According to one researcher at Lebal Drocer Labs in Berkeley, California, there is a rising tide threatening to destroy the lives and well-beings of anyone rumored to be harboring hateful, impure, and/or otherwise dangerous, deviant thoughts.
“Comedians of his caliber don’t fall like this every day,” Troubadour said. “Right now we only see one every couple weeks.”
Roseanne Barr was revealed to be a Jewish Nazi who hates – in addition to herself – black people, no matter how white they might appear. They said she couldn’t be Roseanne anymore. Actually Roseanne is mentally ill and likely to be swallowed alive by the television hate machine, because it’s the right thing to do. Networks HATE racists, even fake ones whose brains are warped by a lifetime of abuse and career meltdowns. Watch TV destroy Roseanne here:
Norm Macdonald, beloved figure of the Internet Right, is rumored by a virulent group of white supremacists to be the greatest conservative comedian to have ever lived. He’s God to them (second only to Real God). They think he’s subversive. Also, he’s fixin’ to get MeToo’d.
Michael Richards (honorary Kramer mention)
Everybody thought he was going to go into something edgy and hip like Lenny Bruce. Actually, he just yelled ugly words into an audience of black folk, followed by a televised apology-not-accepted, hosted by David Letterman and Jerry Seinfeld himself. But god damn, could he ever sliiide into a room.
Doug Benson has not reacted, but the longer he waits amid mounting backlash, the worse it will be in the end.
INTERNET — Fans mourn the loss of Roseanne Barr, who died from autoerotic asphyxiation Tuesday after her show was cancelled because of a racist tweet. An explicit image of the suicide, posted onto her twitter this evening was very quickly scrubbed from social media sites.
A seemingly endless string of celebrity suicide trends are sweeping through social media. Saturday, Chelsea Manning soured her Senate campaign, threatening to kill herself by jumping from a building. George Noory, host of late night talk radio show Coast To Coast AM, died from a DMT overdose just like Joe Rogan.
Jeff Dunam, puppet comic and Roseanne’s close personal friend said, “Fans remembered a Roseanne who grew enraged at the nazi tattoo on Jesco White’s hand. Now that she’s dead a lot of us are wondering where her life took this turn towards evil. I believe it was social media, maybe the Russians. All that time she kept asking me for tips on puppetry, I think she was using it online, running a sockpuppet network.”
Even Wikileaks jumped into the social media trend, with social media editor Suzie Dawson, writing:
Who is former Obama advisor Valerie Jarrett, who is in the news today after @theRealRoseanne, lead actor in America’s #1 sitcom, was axed by ABC after Barr was perceived to have insulted Jarrett’s African-American looks? 1,016 WikiLeaks docs: https://t.co/tUX3ArkWDG
Suzi Dawson denies running the WikiLeaks account, but critics say the Forensicator’s language analysis software points to a nearly four sigma correlation between her tweets and those of WikiLeaks.
The Forensicator told the press that they should begin to fear the rise of Suzi Dawson as head of WikiLeaks now that Assange is out of the picture. The Forensicator said, in a live stream press release, “The startling tweet from WikiLeaks blamed Roseanne’s racial slur on black people who felt insulted. Abject linkage with a stash of pointless emails seems to have fuck all to do with Roseanne. What’s happening here is Suzie Dawson is just manipulating us by means of a mechanical rather than social meaning of language. Hashtags and stories blend seamlessly together for no salient reason. There is no substance but vague suspicions, suspended from a single wire of doubt and dipped into a gobbledygook concoction of current events that taken from afar represent a compromised ethic and standard not only of truth but of justice, liberty, freedom, and basic humanity. Look at what they say they aren’t, in response to nothing. We aren’t authoritarians, we aren’t partisans. Where are the Trump Emails then? Why are they always telling us what everything means, how to interpret their legal cases in a strict and narrow language? It’s an abomination and an absurdity, the late stages of a Lord of the Flies intrigue we can only begin to imagine, and Suzi Dawson is on top — for now.”
Roseanne’s estate was transferred to Tom Arnold, who intends to liquidate and donate all assets to Black Lives Matter and the ADL as requested by Roseanne.
“People will be self-mutilating, defecating openly in the streets, and
Tearing their own faces off
while pandemonium unfolds all around them. There will be gnashing of teeth.”
NEW YORK – Advances in artificial intelligence and automation could replace as many as half the nation’s financial workers over the next 10 years, but according to industry experts, it will take major investment, cold calculation, and the loss of millions of human lives to make His Dream possible.
Raleigh T. Sakers, CEO of Lebal Drocer, Inc., says he is prepared to sacrifice “hundreds of thousands” of his own employees in a convoluted replacement process that might look strange to outsiders who lack his powerful business acumen.
“You never transcended. You’re weak fucks!”
“Unless banks deal with the performance issues that AI will cause for customers who miss looking into the eyes of a human being, banks will not be able to trick customers into trusting them as cunningly as they’ve managed to do in previous centuries,” Sakers said. “There will be unrest and violence, because you never transcended. You’re a psychosemantic blockage. You’re weak fucks! We’ll put y’all down like the DOGS that you are!”
Intense eye contact upgrades to robotic AI faces that better simulate human empathy are often cited as an answer to the problem, but Sakers is pushing back, stating that the uncanny valley is attractive to him.
He said, “Because others find it off-putting, unsettling, and even hostile,” quoting a recent announcement from the Lebal Drocer Institute of Technological Dominion Scientific and Computing Center as an example.
“They had this thing a layin in the basement,” Sakers said. “Its eyes a dartin all around like it’s on angeldust. And it looked at me! Chilled me to the bone. That’s when I knew Lebal Drocer was onto something.”
The center is developing a supercomputer to meet the demands of artificial intelligence and big data applications. But existing supercomputers tend to cost anywhere from $50 million to several hundred million dollars on GoDaddy, he said, which negates the cost-reduction advantages of AI technology, and fails to account for the guilt lurking in the back of his underlings’ minds as they load working-class corpses into mass graves.
Technical issues aside, senior banking executives increasingly celebrate the inevitability of artificial intelligence-based services and the job losses they will create.
“It is going to happen.”
Speaking to an audience last year in Dubai, Bank of Hatesec President John D. Hatefeller predicted a “barnburner” of industry jobs as automation moves forward.
“In our bank we already have people mindlessly working like robots,” hatesec said. “Tomorrow we will have robots behaving like people, except they won’t waste our time with bathroom breaks. It doesn’t matter whether we, as a bank, participate in these changes. It is going to happen.”
Increased processing power, cloud storage and other developments are making many tasks possible that once were considered too complex for automation, according to hatesec.
“Our new algorithms curate the smartest, most mathematically justified trades, at breakneck speeds, pumping and dumping markets at a pace never before thought possible. We can simultaneously inflate markets and exploit crashes,” hatesec said. “What was once considered a mere nightmare of science fiction, is now a brutally profitable fact. This must be the ‘innovation’ EFF was talking about in their slogan! Thanks Internet!”
Hatesec, whose company works to improve existing software performance, said the financial industry is swamped with scenes of anguish as robots systematically dismember scores of bankers while a horrified public looks on.
“They’re picking them apart like lobster, consuming their electrostatic energy to reproduce, and leaving behind only bonedust. As Lebal Drocer brings the world to climax, unprecedented customer service, and a newly enhanced Terms of Service Agreement, there will be challenges. So clench your teeth and watch.”
This Real News Media was brought to you proudly by Lebal Drocer Financial Services. Your electrostatic energy kickstarts our hearts!
Tourists can visit many solemn war memorials and presidential shrines, but barely removed from the Pennsylvania Avenue freakshow in front of Donald Trump’s White House, fans weave through glass-encased Black Rock City artifacts in the cramped Renwick and find themselves in a plywood Burning Man Temple. The curator’s sign informs them this exhibit is sacred and partially funded by Anonymous, the hacker collective.
A reveler’s phone is blasting the voice of Hunter S. Thompson, reading Revelations “. . .and whosoever was not found written into the book of life was cast into the lake of fire…” the voice echoes from the many plywood surfaces.
Tourists from all nations write and paste small phrases onto the plywood, the glue fumes in the unventilated exhibit damaging their brains. The fumes are so strong the fear of a sudden ignition paralyzes me, my heart runs faster.
They’re taking pictures of all the messages, and a social media screen downstairs catalogues each photograph, analyzes the handrwriting, archives the message, identifies and resells this sacred personal prayer to someone much worse than Cambridge Analytica, more robotic and sinister than Mark Zuckerberg.
Just outside there are sharp cries of injustice, “We are petitioning Donald Trump to order an FBI investigation into the MURDER of PRINCE!” Ten purple umbrellas with Prince’s emblem shield the protesters from a sudden black squall descending onto the White House like the alien ship in Independence day. “Prince was murdered for music rights and corporate profits!”
Lieutenant Dangle has moved up in life. He is now working for the secret service, standing guard over the crowds of tourists milling in front of the White House for their photo opportunity. He has his hands rested tactically on the MP5 strapped to his belly, almost a match for an assault rifle maniac, but not quite.
The Capitol’s dome has a new paint job and glistens in the harsh sunlight after the rain with unnatural brightness. Protest kids are coming from that direction in the hundreds, all wearing bullseye hoodies and carrying anti-assault rifle signs. They’re making for the air and space museum, getting their more traditional field trip now that the protest’s over. Each student is greeted by two banned intermediate range ballistic missiles, a heartwarming display, the soviet missile a token of a disarmament treaty with Russia.
A group of monks split up at the entrance, stomping through the museum in a harried research. The particular Buddhist order is searching for something very important that might undo the terror of this moment in history, that much is clear. I want to help them, but their method of exhausting all the items on display by splitting up is something I have no time for.
The root of it all was the Wright Brothers so I start there, but quickly my instinct is that their frivolous good time fun machine is not quite what we’re after. Somewhere in World War One there is a quotation from an atom bomb maker blaming his work on the sinister baby bombings committed over London by Zeppelins. This sinister editorial is a good clue in finding exactly what the monks are after when they compare notes in their hotel rooms.
The biggest monk is carefully taking stock of the surface of the moon. It is not a deity or anything at all but another world like ours, a dead and lifeless world. There is no suffering there, but it is not in a state of nirvana. This is a perfect riddle to bring about a state of holy insanity but he hurries on after only a moment. It is not the kind of idle theological pondering appropriate for this urgent juncture in history.
The V3 rocket is placed between the more cost-effective V2 and a tremendous cylindrical section of a Saturn V rocket, all three designed by the very same team of guilty holocaust scientists. Their sordid chapter in it all has been erased, as best as possible, by the US military, but a lost fragment out of Wehrner von Braun’s autobiography, which is now confirmed by many historians, expressed great regret for acquisitioning Jewish boys as ‘dummy weights’ in rocket trials.
This is when I notice what the monks must be missing, in their harried reading of placards. From every corner of the museum there is a low, but audible mantra. Elon Musk’s name is babbled at everything. In front of a model of Howard Hughes’ Spruce Goose, “He couldn’t make it fly, but Elon Musk could. He made an electric car fly past Mars.” At a group of drones, “Elon Musk will have these things delivering pizzas instead of bombs.”
Those monks were agitated for damn good reasons that I see very clearly now that this whole town is too much to handle. It would be easier to relax at a loud freakshow like Black Rock City, because at least I’d be able to score something to take the edge off of all these landmarks of cosmic cruelty. And christ! There are giant crows standing in the parks, pretending to be statues but actually genetically engineered by DARPA, picking over this god damned city’s human refuse, beastly manifestations of natural law by an elite that now controls nature.
Any stupid tourist can get a legal marijuana high in Washington DC, or at least something close to it at any CBD bar. And in a town like this any decent person needs something to take th eedge off. A sign at the CBD bar counter reads, “What is CBD? CBD are the non-THC components of hemp and have an effect stronger than tylenol.” It’d better be stronger than tylenol. But staring all day at the sunlight glinting off of the mirror-polished cast iron capitol dome has me wanting a tylenol anyway, so to hell with it. When in Rome eat gummies, right?
Jerry Garcia walks in, sits down next to me, and starts shouting. “Hey man, I told you to stop fuckin’ with me like that!”
No, not a schizophrenic acid case, oh no, he’s picked up a phone call and he’s got a slick headpiece. Small, like something for secret service muscle. Now he’s laughing, probably to some artificial intelligence buddy construct, it’ll drive him to grab a bargain sale assault rifle from Wal Mart and go spree killing once his phone addiction, CBD, and last-ditch benzos can’t cut it anymore.
His agitated barking is very quickly nullified by a good double shot of CBD in decaf. It’s working on me too, soon enough, and I’m grooving on the music instead of deciphering this man’s schizophrenic growls. Hell it’s my first legal high.
Dr. Troubador, marijuana expert, arrived with a shipment of CBD oil. “Only I can dispense the rest of the shit, the good part, of course by prescription only.” He scrawled a dick onto a napkin and crushed it into my hand. “You’re good? You’re good? I’ll tell you when you’re good.” He rips the remaining gummy from my hand and crushes it with his shoe like a lit cigarette. “Throw that shit out.
The mad marijuana scientist is stroking a vial of reddish purple essential oil, “You’ve never had a high like this, the terror components are through the roof. Ten trillion on the Troubador scale. We’ve engineered a strain of weed that’s extreme and overpowering in its paranoia, and then we extracted all the CBD out of it to heighten agitation and attentive faculties even further. This shit you’ve just eaten is our waste product. You gotta try the pure shit.”
The doctor whipped out a tremendous syringe, filled it with the oils, and injected it into my eye. For a short time, perhaps an hour, I was able to see radio frequencies as visible light. The ionosphere arced upward like a new sky and crackled in perpetual green lightning from AM talk radio transmitters. People’s phones blinked red and white into the distant horizon, amber flaring up in data transmission. The network of sparkling jewels overlaid my vision almost totally, fading just as the harmony and rhythm of it all formed some vague pattern. I think I saw Donald Trump Tweet something hot, amber waves all flowing outward from the single point in DC. The monks need to see this, I thought, this is what the military has been working up to all this time.