Jay Kenny, A Roanoke man, sat in his favorite comfortable chair Thursday, thinking the world would just pass him by as it has done for the last five years. That is, until a book deal and a Sports Illustrated contract fell into his lap from the ventilation system overhead.
American author Jay Kenny making headway toward goals
“I was just staring out the window thinking, ‘Gosh, the world sure does change as fast as the second hand counts a minute nowadays.’ But I remember noticing that my back lawn and the bushes and trees always look the same,” said Mr. Kenny, retail employee.
Jay went on to express his renewed attitude toward life, and lack of certainty around what he will do next. “Now that I can be the writer I always dreamed of bein’, I just don’t know what I’ll write about! Sports? Politics? Social trends, the government? War and peace; it’s all out there for me,” he said with a grin.
Jay Kenny said he’d already grown accustomed to day-to-day life without ambition. “Paper hits the door every mornin’. The songbird sings my favorite tunes,” he said. He went on to describe how he’d come to delude himself into believing a life without any distinction whatsoever does not evacuate the happiness from his soul, but in fact brings him a form of satisfaction. “Things here are just how I want them to be. Pretty much all the time. Grass stays cut. Neighbors are friendly. Known them about fifteen years now. What little money I get pays the gas bill, heating, lights, health insurance, life insurance, car insurance, homeowner’s insurance, water. With what’s left I buy food. Sometimes I have enough left and I’ll even buy myself a big old steak dinner. Me and Gus,” he said, pointing to his dog. “I guess I might just write about that.”
Mr. Kenny said he would not investigate the duct-work of his home, telling reporters the weight of the curiosity around what caused his dreams to come true by simply neglecting to actively pursue them can be remedied with a good Marlboro cigarette and a shot of whiskey. “I don’t like to ask no questions,” he said. “Something told me I’d be a big novelist one day and people would want to know what I’ve got to say about things. I just believed in myself. And that’s probably how I was able to keep my routine of television, forty hours at Staples, and shopping at Kroger. I knew it’d all pay off eventually.” And it did.
Roanoke, Va.–A Roanoke man savagely mutilated himself Friday while trying to prove to his ex-wife he was “still man enough to sexual role-play and use a skill saw naked.” Sources say he was attempting to sacrifice the family housecat to the love gods when things suddenly appeared very wrong.
Tina Shrubman, a 46 year old “homemaker” described the scene to police and reporters a “bloodbath, not in the sexual way, but almost,” as the man’s dismembered tool flopped around like a suffocating fish on the counter-top in her Martha Stewart-influenced kitchen. Lustily, Shrubman bit her lower lip.
Lieutenant Leroy Jackson, who is not supposed to disclose any details around an ongoing investigation, revealed to reporters, “Cletus Ragburn, waited for Ms. Shrubman’s return in her living room, naked, prepared to operate a table saw mounted on two sawhorses. Confused, she instinctively pepper-sprayed him, causing his thumb to react, triggering the power saw to spin out of control and fall to the floor, castrating him in the process.”
When asked where the pet would be sent for treatment, Jackson replied, “I am not at liberty to divulge that information.”
Joe Diamond, attorney for Ragburn’s johnson revealed that the member was seeking severance pay, a full health insurance package and a guaranteed nine-to-five stroke job.
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Gaia Online has suffered extreme hyperinflation in the past weeks, as the value of gold plummeted. The crux of Gaia’s economy is a steady flow of art-themed posting. Poetry, photography, and art of all kind and quality are equally rewarded. Through time, however, the quality of this art has completely degenerated beyond the point of recognition. For a minor amount of gold, a fraction of a fraction of what one needs to ‘buy’ accessories for their avatar, one user may copy-paste a Wikipedia article into the “non-fiction” category, or perhaps write a paragraph about their abusive families. Webcam photos of things in people’s computer rooms are also a major source of Gaia’s artwork.
Because the value of artwork has bottomed out, Gaia has begun coercing its users into posting even more worthless art to boost the economy. The fact is, that if a computer program were to continuously pick photos from google images, apply an Andy Warhol filter, and post it on Gaia, only to randomly give away all the gold it made, this whole system might be streamlined. Why should human beings post worthless art, when computers are so much more efficient at it?
People like speshelshell22 could continue to comment “i love pop art it looks good,” if they felt inclined, or this system could also be replaced by computer automation.
I will leave you with a poem from Gaia, written by xX_HyperSkittlez_Xx.
While it is not written directly about the state of art in Gaia, I think it’s apt.
youre walkin’ into town
then on your face there is a frown
its diarriayou try to poop it out
but you cant so you just pout
no one knows how to spell it
so everyone just guesses it
you are in walmart
when you try and fart
THERES A FREAKIN GLOB OF CRAP IN MY PANTS!!! WTF IS WRONG!!!!!! I FEEL ICKY
so you sweep it with a broom
when your in the bathroom
you enter into a stall
then you give it your all
then you try to flush it down
but all it does is go around
Children of all ages lined up in front of their schools today only to learn that classes were canceled indefinitely.
A victory every man can taste
Professors of social sciences, military advisers to the President of the United States of America, leading geneticists, politicians and local leaders from every recognized country, island, village outpost and tribe in the civilized world have declared that knowledge and education are useless as world peace has been achieved through peace talks, treaties, agreements, ceasefires, nuclear disarmament, and the cessation of arms manufacturers across the globe. They have concluded that mandatory education as it exists now serves only the military-industrial complex, a device known for generations as the primary source of conflict, strife and natural injustice among the traditionally benign and peace-loving human population of Earth.
In the wake of an agreement on worldwide peace, arms manufacturers such as Smith and Wesson, Colt, and Remington have all been paid historically immense dividends as both recognition of their lifetimes of labor and quality craftsmanship and as thanks for agreeing to shut down their plants or for channeling their industrial strength on peace-serving ends.
The collective thousands of billions of dollars once spent annually through the global industry of war has fed the world five-fold by present calculations and so have all been funneled into the scientific research and manufacture of the Small Nuclear Thermal Rocket Engine, safely deployed once in space after a regular SRB takeoff has breached the Earth’s mesosphere. The new nuclear thermal rockets will carry a manned spacecraft close enough to the speed of light through interstellar space that we will reach the neighboring star Proxima Centauri within the next four to five years. If given enough time to calculate a mission’s success rate and produce its means, Earthlings can expect receiving the first top-down images of the atmospheres of Centauri’s terrestrial planets (that’s extra-solar to those of us who don’t get to go just yet) by the year 2020.
In the meantime, every nation’s resources, acreage of land, national crop, GDP, and transportation capacities are being factored and calculated by the world’s leading independent scientists and mathematicians to ensure a fair global distribution of edible goods to and from all lands. This means bringing tastes and flavors unrecognizable to the Congolese people right into the center of their tribal feasting options. Unimaginable delicacies of East India meet Siberian hunters. Every last North Korean will be fed before December 31, 2009.
As if that weren’t enough, the now-defunct schools and colleges are being turned into social networking sites at which people of all ages still have the option of attending to discuss ideas, philosophy, God and the Universe, mathematics, science, art, literature and music, but a new law forbids the charging of admission as the buildings are paid for by no one and upheld by everyone thereby making a cover charge contradictory as it would create an artificial class system not unlike the one left behind in which the rich would be given a right to live disproportionate to that of the other ninety five per cent (statistics are care of Stockholm International Peace Research Institute) of a given population. Your money can and will still buy you nice TVs, an electric boat for retirement, pets and homes, but nobody will ever again have to pay for a fair and balanced perception of reality as we know it, as everyone plays an active role in its shaping up through socialization and direct democracy via up-and-coming internet voting software set up to register your direct, individual input on each and every issue set to pass across your congressman or senator’s desktop. Also, people are no longer limited to just two choices on any given issue. New answers are nominated automatically at the stroke of your very own keyboard and added to the list for others to second, third, and so on. Votes are tallied nightly, weekly, monthly and annually, a system akin to Nintendo Wii’s Everybody Votes channel.
People are expected now to go on into their new lives as easily as they have come into it; a safe, stable life in a utopia in which technology has brought every living man a say in government, locally, nationally, and internationally. Hunger is over, people love each other unconditionally and we can all explore space together, in peace, forever.
Iran and the United States have come together in a landmark baby step, citing their agreement. “Afghani drugs are no good,” says Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. This is partly because the Taliban is forcing the peasants to grow opium, and partly because the United States would have a perfect shot at winning the War on Drugs if it weren’t for these meddlin’ A-rabs and their cockamamy dope schemes.
“Afghani Kush is just something college kids say in order to sell their weak, low-grade pot to each other,” Stanley Straightedge, director of the D.E.A. published in an official press statement released Monday. “We don’t want to effect that.” Straightedge indicated that the two countries are not so concerned with the marijuana leaving Afghanistan, but they want to stem the opium trade, which has been directly linked to terrorism, contrary to what post-9/11 commercials told pot-smoking soccer-moms: that all the money they spent on gas and weed were actually buying the videotaped beheadings of journalists.
He continued, “The kind of drugs coming from Afghanistan contain no more opiates than your grandmother’s ordinary pain medications.” Straightedge went on to say, “The really good stuff is coming out of Mexico, and we feel that the gang wars taking place in the dirt capital of the world are helping to improve the quality of our imports due to increased competition.” He indicated that he wants to keep those fears flowing as a last bastion for xenophobic politicians who sometimes tend to run out of creativity around voting season. “Plus, you’ve got to feed the monkey,” he added.
Now, Iran’s sudden anti-drug stance and a shared interest in being the largest buzz-kill in the Eastern Hemisphere has finally given the United States a reason to like them. In the past, heroin peddlers have used the technique of injecting their potential purchasers in order to get them hooked before they even know they want to buy the drug, leaving them with little choice thereafter but to feed their newfound dependence. Borrowing from this tactic, the U.S. is planning to Zerg-rush the third-world country’s primary source of income with narcotics agents, the antithesis to drug-runners, in an unprecedented move thought by E.W. Times analysts to be the one and only action left to take on the Taliban “that will surely lead to a new terrorist bombing in the future.”
“Basically,” Wayneskis said, “What you’ve got here is a bunch of assholes out in the desert with only one good thing going for ‘em: drugs. It’s fine and good for them, but how’s that helping you and me shop at Kroger?” Wayne continued, “This is a real problem for us and for them too because the only way they’re going to be able to plant some grass, open jobs at the Gap, build a good clean country [HEIL] and grow our corn is to get off that heroin and start injecting Uncle Sam.”
On an unrelated note, the War with Iran is expected to begin on its predetermined start date of July 4, 2010.
Armed cattlemen gather to wrangle up sheep-like capital resource.
Our generation is doomed to the cooperation of all distributors of every major known resource in a valiant effort to turn a buck on the entire human race at each opportunity, degenerating us with PR incentives into an unquestioning, unthinking, digitally satisfied, technologically gratified, self-tending human plantation. If things continue at the pace iPhones and on-demand cable have set out, then we will not evolve, but devolve, the opposable thumb becoming civilization’s fiercest natural enemy.
The total output and sheer growth in numbers of cell phone towers will finally generate a large enough volume of short radio waves through polluted air to double the rate of all conditional cancers so as to make yet more money off the same resource, selling vital medications until the usefulness of a particular hominid’s living insides is so rotted, drugged up and decomposed that only local funeral homes can pick off the last few thousand dollars left in his or her insurance fund. One final score for the cash-vultures willing to carve up your corpse and who don’t mind breathing in a little formaldehyde.
As the Indians took and used all parts of the buffalo but the brain, which they used against the animal’s configurable habits to control it into the killzone, so too does the invisible hand of our unseen master from the front porch of his far-off third-world plantation.
Gaia is great because it is full of people who just can’t seem to get a grip on real life at all. With all its fantasy role-playing, cliquishness, inside jokes, and the unending affection of total strangers, it is a welcome hideout for the socially awkward to escape to. It’s also a place, however, that some must inevitably escape from.
Gaia has its own economy, its own government, its own society, subcultures, and religion. It has all the inclinations of our modern-day, real-life architecture, but it exists entirely within a digital computer world in which everyone is rewarded for their contributions and participation. While this appeals to the same gear of human nature which likes videogames and play-until-you-win reward systems, some people replace real-life interaction with this alternative reality in which everyone can be a winner all the time. And because this is the new reality that replaced the old one, in which we used to have to be there for our friends and communicate with them and be good to them, help them out with their issues, and so on, its lack of social challenge perverts these users’ concept of what meaningful social interaction is, because there is no real basis for friendship anymore. You can now make friends by looking at their profile, making a comment about it, and then sending a friend request. This is easy to do and anybody can have thousands of digital friends and still speak to just a couple of people every day. So then social interactions start to mutate, and we begin replacing one emotion with another. Because a friend’s enthusiastic laughter no longer accompanies every interaction, we begin replacing one genuine emotion – happiness – with others: attachment, intimacy, joy from acceptance, and from sharing secrets or an experience unique to this kind of existence.
Just today I discovered two people playing out this weird mommy/daughter role-play fantasy routine where the daughter keeps asking mommy if she loves her enough, and taking issue with the fact that she is never there.
thx i just fekt out because u where never on and u where on when i was not V_V but now its ok ^_^
^in response to the following:
OK…I just want you to know that NO MATTER WHAT I am your friend/mom! ^_^ So I need to tell you that this weekend I won’t be on because I am going to my fiancee’s mom’s house and she doesn’t have interwebz…. crying BUT I will get on asap! ^_^ How are you doing??
The posts are being deleted every day or two, probably because the daughter doesn’t want the outside world to see what she has been doing with her internet time, especially not real mommy and daddy.
You see, this is just the hilarious tip of the iceberg. Between exaggerated realities like the example you see here, and the kid who posts in the non fiction arena about his dad beating him and his sister with a thirty foot extension cord, you have a bell curve of people who talk about goths, and how they aren’t goths, “emos”, their avatars, vampires, people who are vampires, people who love vampires, and people who wish they were vampires so they make vampire avatars.
You will find people who have absolutely no bearing on the art community, but post as feverishly as though there was a little publisher standing behind them, yelling, “Churn out more material! The kiln of the entire artistic community simply will not fire without your input! We need more shit faster!” And they don’t care that shitting out some half-assed blurry snapshot of their cat isn’t considered art, because to them, it IS art just so long as they have some bullshit reason to contrive and justify its submission to the corporate-owned art community they wish to be a part of.
As you have already figured out for yourselves, this is a website by adults, for kids. It purports to support creativity and self-development by selling fake, digital garments and accessories, backed by MTV/Viacom finance and style-marketing keywords, which can be bought with the fictitious gold either purchased with a parent’s credit-card or “earned” through the submission (spamming) of a picture of one’s eyeball, or a drawing of their own avatars, or copying-and-pasting Wikipedia entries (a known source of bullshit). Like real-life rap music and Britney Spears from the year 2000, people are now digitizing an existence in which they make art for Pepsi commercials and help to propagate the style and standard set by the “manufacturer of cool” where ten-year-old styles and attitudes that, in the circles that once pioneered them, stagnated within months of their inceptions but carry on through marketing, online advertising and PR. Subversive cultural dynamics submitted by the undercover hired geeks of Viacom keep the tensions alive and convince children that signing their identities away to a multinational corporation is how to rebel against mom and dad, and their vicious ADD medications. Paid strangers keep this shit alive, not regular people. MTV’s future and their ability to control ours depends on it.
We will see you next Friday when local media mogul Billy B will present his continuing investigation into the world’s most unprecedented cheapening of everyday reality. He’s looking into the bastardization of artistic standards and practices in their entirety as part of his investigation into the seedy microcosm mocking our very existence in all its capacity to do so by using us against our nonintellectual selves. We’ll report to you next week from inside the hellish introspective reality of Gaia Online.
This is all we are, in a nutshell, and all we’ll ever be. Tune out, jack in.
Our right to privacy extends only as far as our ability to protect it since technological advancement and the government have joined hands against us. The right to privacy will be as void for humanity as the right to a fair trial was to the Guantanamo Bay detainees. We’re basically doomed to an existence carried out under the filtration of the all-seeing eyes behind the various agencies every ISP node is fed into via the NSA supercomputer. All information is monitored, all the time, regardless of how you choose to protect your ‘physical data’. This is not just possible. It is more than probable, considering the unsupervised structure of our the internet everyone knows and understands (or doesn’t understand) today. No one escapes it…
Now introducing, from ElfWax Research & Labratories, the Modern-Day Information Doomwave SURFIN’ SET!
Our set includes:
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- -A Hand-Held Hate Speaker with a backlit clock. This 4-inch radio is armed with 400+ hours of recorded religious lecture by various extremist groups and terrorits. Also, hear the Beach Boys as you’ve never heard them before!
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- -A single-use flash-drive bullet which can be safely (but assertively) put to your throat and discharged using a GUI (graphical user interface) to send a digital signal to the USB drive, which plunges the hot metal deep into your brain stem. When uncle sam is listening to your muffled cries through your LAN connection AND from outside the door to your back porch, let them know you just went out in style, the American way!***
*You will not get away with it
**subsequent chemotherapy bills are the sole responsibility of the consumer, but it doesn’t matter anyway because your ass belongs to Uncle Sam (oh shit they control the after-life, too!) now get down on your knees and pray for the Sun God to blow up the Sun.
***All of our bullets are made in China and may not contain actual lead or any other hard material, and may dissolve in humidity, becoming a mild toxin poisonous to infants.