Agents of entropy, black holes are real and they are all around you
You say cheese and the camera steals your soul. What a smile! How many pictures of you are out there, capturing that magical moment when you pretended to be happy on command? What a smile. Such a warm memory. Relive it, exactly as it happened, alongside 999 photographs – all of them magical – from the same evening.
With a swipe of the finger, you’ll rip through a hundred without blinking as the night cascades up and down a smartphone. And wherever it stops, you’ll think to yourself, “Damn, what a smile.”
The lensing maw rearranges the lines of your face into a glowing stream of atoms, the light of which is suspended for eternity on the boundary of an event horizon. An illusory glow, the core of each galaxy swallows light but leaves the casings for astronomers to peer out in wonder.
“What a smile,” the photographer dispassionately exclaims as he folds spacetime, hilariously, first into a donut and then into a convex wireframe bowing and twisting under the weight of your perception. Like it knows its being watched. God is shy, but God damn, what a smile.
The donut folds over like a wolf in combat and collapses into your eyes, grinning on its way down, watching you from the corner of her eye. Eager and thirsty, spacetime rips itself apart to give you a taste of the river of light. But you can’t describe it to anyone. You can’t talk about it, because no word in the vocabulary can approach it without destroying some aspect of its inherent Truth. All the others can do is look at the stupid smirk on your otherwise stoic cat face, and laugh in your direction, and haphazardly declare – not without authentic surprise – “What a smile!”
CAPE CANAVERAL, Fla.–The United States of America celebrated her total commitment to all-out, Earth-only war Friday following the final launch of the NASA Space Shuttle.
The launch, regarded as “obligatory, ceremonial hoo-ha” by U.S. Army General and designate Director of the CIA General Patreus, went off without a hitch.
Over 1 million spectators uninterestedly watched the final launch of America’s space shuttle program.
“Finally, I can stop pretending to give a shit about space,” said Gunther Reed, 43, who witnessed the final lift-off a few hundred yards away. Reed rolled his eyes as he casually threw up his hands when his children screamed maniacally during lift-off.
Analysts predict Americans will soon be forced to disregard entirely new facets of reality, lest they appear over-informed, and thus, un-American.
“I think now that space is out of the picture, I can safely stop caring about more pressing matters such as global economics,” said Dean Shelton, 48, a plant worker in one of America’s last operating factories, located in Canton, N.C.
Thousands of workers will be laid off after the shuttle returns to earth, and will not return to work because an American space program is “just pointless,” as American President Barack Obama had this to say:
“What are we going to do in space, anyway? Discover new worlds – ancient planets with more fossil fuels and rare-earth minerals than we know what to do with? Possibly make contact with multi-celled organisms in nearby star-systems? This, I feel, is no longer America’s role. That’s China’s problem now. A new more glorious dawn awaits. Not a sunrise, like a nuclear blast, but a galaxy-rise. A morning filled with 400 billion guns – the rising of enlisted gays. Iran, we’re comin’ for you. We gon’ find you. We gon’ find you.”
As the President’s speech descended into an auto-tuned mockery of tree-hugging Nature lovers, astronomy enthusiasts and Iranian nationalists, he referenced YouTube cat videos he favorited in the past, as well as the Rebecca Black cover-up – and even prank-called Sabu, supposed leader of LulzSec, connecting him to a three-way conference call with incumbent Leader and Guide of the Revolution of Libya Muammar Gaddafi.
Obama reportedly facilitated the purchase of five Farmhouse Bread sandwiches from the mysterious hacker and arranged an exchange in the order of millions of bitcoins for rare access to Interpol’s collection of bomb recipes and child pornography to Gaddafi in a move political analysts described as “gut-wrenching, tactless and having absolutely nothing at all to do with the space launch.”
The Associated Press reported it will be at least three years – possibly five or more – before astronauts are launched again from U.S. soil. But only on the technicality that NASA’s funding is to be concentrated on turning people into projectile explosives which can be fired inconspicuously as fleshy missiles, undetectable by radar with the potential to inflict unprecedented destruction on important military targets in mainland China.
Former NASA Administrator Michael Griffin lamented the loss of America’s leadership in space. “For us to abandon that in favor of nothing is a mistake of strategic proportions,” he said.
But war is more important, which is why it has become USA’s number one export – because what impetus for space travel is there when we haven’t even poisoned Earth yet with global thermonuclear war?
“Space is for the elite,” said President Obama. “The American elite. And one fine day, we’ll take off again. The richest and the wealthiest people on Earth will someday board a glorious Generation Ship to Proxima Centauri, soon after we destroy this beautifully marbled rarity perched in the vast dark ocean of infinity. And we’ll leave your asses in the dust, conquering and destroying new worlds while you rot here, in this Hell we are creating for you each and every day, one war at a time.”
“I’m a little bit sad about it and a little bit wistful,” said Jennifer Cardwell, 38, who came with her husband, John, and two young sons from Fairhope, Ala. “I’ve grown up ignoring the space program, and now I have to find something new to stop giving a fuck about.”
The outlook is bleak, but with only war, low wages and receding global influence to think about, a random survey of Americans indicates citizens may feel obligated to double up on their reality TV shows and high fructose corn syrup products to remain as apathetic as they once were before the decline of NASA’s space shuttle program.
The next five years will see an influx of orange people with gelled hair and inferiority complexes, as well as phenomenons in the 24-hour news cycle in which viewership will become inversely proportional to the usefulness of CNN, Headline News and MSNBC.
Singularity, Everywhere–The world’s money has coalesced into a singularity following an investigation into Goldman Sext’s Insecurities. The adage “Time equals money” has taken on a whole new meaning, bringing time to a stop as Americans wait an eternity for the next Big Red Communist Bang to redistribute all wealth throughout the new universe, which at once extended no farther than our farthest, most expensive satellite.
“Americans have come to expect less out of their universe,” explained U.C. Berkley astrophysicist Herman Coats. “Nowadays, the Universe means everything between home, work and Wal-Mart, and people are already overwhelmed.” Results of a recent Virginia poll indicate citizens welcomed the crushing void of a black hole. Many were counting on it.
Many like Goldman Sext CEOs and other company leaders, who are making shitloads of money for charity and immortality research. Positive effects are expected to trickle down to all their mortal customers, they said. Elf Wax Times does not question the word of high-level corporate executives and reports their explanations as unerring truth.
In fact, we here at The Elf Wax Times would go so far as to defend at least one billion dollars of the fraud in question. There is a very simple explanation for where that money went. If CEOs aren’t getting paid exponentially more than you, me, their employees, and the space program, then how are they supposed to work comfortably and efficiently? CEOs in a position of privilege simply deserve more than you and me, and it’s their obligation as Americans to take it without asking permission or reporting it missing. Would you be happier to find out it went toward the Afghan war?
Yeah. So would we.
Some guy on acid did provide this mathematical description of the Goldman Sachs crisis:
n-security divided by f(x)=fuck your shit, I’m getting paid
This has been brought to you by Lebal Drocer, Incorporated.
Meteor showers are violent death-displays of space’s dominance over mankind, and December’s Geminid meteor shower is only different from November’s leonid meteor shower in that it will be “twice as deadly,” says chief Elf Wax Astronomer Hem Cumming, who is also notably ‘Miley Cyrus’ biggest fan.’
One should look away from the skies between the hours of 12:00 am EST and dawn, and avoid going outside for any reason during these hours until the police tell you it’s safe to come back out of your homes, as there is no safe place in a meteor shower, nor would there be any hope for survival after being struck by one.
Elf Wax Scientist Langstrom T. Hugg said the scientific explanation for the Geminids states Gemini, the God of Slayer, master of demise, is reigning pure, crystalline hatred on the Earth for betraying him over Jesus, and this is what brave Astronomers see streaking across the night sky, should they dare to look.
“We’re basically populating the foretold Hell on Earth,” said Dr. Hugg. “The Bible prophecies many things, including the housing crisis, and the Black Dawn of the Anti-Christ, Barack Obama. The mind-blowing pain of the Geminid meteor shower reminds us never to foresake Gemini again, and that we should fear Jesus more than we love him.”
The phony scientific community that claims Dr. Hugg’s research is “invalid” because it is “not based on fact” should be disregarded, said Dr. Hugg, “because they have already proven to The Elf Wax Times, and thus to America, that they are not worthy of God’s Glory when they gave credence to the hedonistic pleasures of the dinosaur bones, put here to test our faith in the glorious Lord who neither The Elf Wax Times, nor I, dare not forsake.”
As lead astronomer for The Elf Wax Times Dr. Hugg is the only source used, his word is accepted as unerring fact. So it is with great responsibility and duty to our loyal readers that you stay indoors, America, and let those Phillipino know-nothings die like dogs in their rice patties under the fiery wrath of Gemini so we may take their land in God’s name, amen.
– on the horizon.
You see, as information and people’s total alignment with the electromagnetic field of energy coalesce into a single vibrating consciousness pulsing through our bodies infinitely with every capitalistic wave of wi-fi signals, cell phone towers, satellites beaming Ellen down to Earth and the puncture-wound in the atmosphere which welcomes the Van Allen Radiation Belts to our front yard force us to face the fact that our thoughts are under control by a globally consciousness PR Director named Phil who knows about more than just your fucked-up diaper piss fetish.
Phil controls everything with the crossing of a single digitally-simulated local synapse. He does this millions of times per second, as he contemplates everything and the Way it is going to happen yesterday. Phil has played and beaten Civilization II on difficulty levels well-beyond God-like. He has mastered focused arithmetical computation on your inner space, which you left wide open through your soul. Phil owns you motherfuckers. What do you have to say?
When Phil closes his eyes, the Universe goes dark. When Phil’s heart beats, we instantaneously collapse and birth anew into a Big Bang. Phil’s heart will one day de-crystallize and stop beating. Omega’s constant value will bleed his heart dry and forever into ice, as the false vacuum of Phil’s inner-self evacuates into hyperspace, supplanting reality into a burned out image in the picture-tube of inter-universal unknown, a cluster of dead embers, ashes in the wind, dust in the clouds. Phil is dead. So were we.
The Universal Hivemind that keeps up with our tags and masters us in practice while we attempt to understand it in theory has no place being taught in our schools, and that is why we should vote down proposition number 327: The Abomination of the Human Mind with Roanoke County Schools at the forefront of this unique, and basically life-altering experimentation on the human species.
With no hand to guide us, we are left with only our spirit-bodies to explore the hypocrisy of intellectual starvation in America, faced with Krogers on the corner, the party line on the papers, and lies in the skies, against all odds, staring at ourselves and seeing the reflection of Corporate Breeding. We are a Generation of Swine, as Hunter once said to this reporter, and we’ve rooted in our feces until its perpetual congregation with the mud has contaminated lifeforce with the need-to-feed-on-Greed.
You’re welcome, you fucks. You finally got enough computers and enough electronics and gadgetry in your SUV and enough features and enough perks. And now we’ve poisoned the water-hole and there’s no turning back. Latch on to your withering testicles, and fuck the vapid whore of Capitalism.
I chose a life through which I knew I’d starve. I knew I’d have nothing. I knew I’d not be able to afford a wife, girlfriend, home or child. Somewhere along the line, I thought “I could be a doctor. I could be an astronaut! I could be a firefighter.” Nothing sounded like me, until somebody said, “Hey, you could be a writer!” So, I don’t operate on people, I don’t see Earth from space without the use of illegal drugs. I can barely afford rent, bills, student loans. I couldn’t afford to write these words if it cost a dollar. But they’re here, aren’t they? That’s what counts to me. I deal only with abstract, astronomical facts. So you can rest assured you’re reading the truth if you’re reading The Elf Wax Fucking Times, and we’ll even call your boss and tell him to go fuck himself, anonymously, on your behalf. Just shoot us an email – if you know how.
Now, all this writing and believing is good. But it sure sucks not having a high-def TV. You can get really easy headshots on Call of Duty 4 with one of those. And writing more doesn’t buy one. The Universe doesn’t care. Phil’s heartbeat won’t mind; quite the contrary, it doesn’t know you; it is more focused on your overall collapse and rearrangement. The UN simulation of ourselves doesn’t care, nor does our imagination of it. We are here, alone, watching it all burn together.
Enjoy your Apocalypse.