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New Century American Motto

“You better watch out. She’ll lay that pussy on you.”

Drinking beers, sharing fears. Drunk and eager women splay themselves across me while the fire burns our legs. And I look into her eyes to find lust and distrust, and an attitude of despondency coupled with belligerence, if it feels good.

It’s open season on the American way of life. The FBI can safely and legally plant tracking devices on your car now. Until it goes to the Supreme Court, which it might never, it’s legal – even if “outlawed” it will go on. Who enforces the law? The criminal dogs that oversee us.

Fraudulence infects every facet of human behavior, life, and lies are the ethical way, so as not to hurt or dismiss another’s potential to suck you off.

Fuck this fake-ass charade, puppeteer conglomerate meltdown frenzy. Millions of Americans ready to work and can’t get shit off the ground. Credit bubble human enslavement crisis not only on the horizon but in our faces. In our blood, in our bank accounts, the freedom virus lives, breeds, counter intuitively thrives on your ignorance, and pattern of submission.

The government knows what you do, where you sleep. Get your cars checked out. If you’re trouble, then you’re watched. Of course, you’re not trouble. You just write stupid shit. Bomb shit.

If you write anything at all, which you don’t.

Empty notebooks stare back at you in a jealous fit, so eager to be full as you, and yet so blank and pathetic. Like you.

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When Families Grieve – A Very Special PBS Special

Why is my daddy dead? And who is this man?
Why is my daddy dead? And who is this man?

Anytown, USA–Elmo and his muppet friends are coming on PBS tonight at 8 pm, along with Katie Couric, who is best remembered for disguising her live colonoscopy on NBC’s Today Show as investigative journalism.

In tonight’s program, Elmo and Katie Couric (also a puppet) help very young people come to grips with death by accepting it as a never-ending facet of reality. The program is sponsored by Lockheed-Martin, the world’s largest manufacturer of war machines, and industry leaders of death.

Elmo and Katie will tell stupid people how to explain government-assisted death to children, as well as coping with sadness, fear and anger – but in such a way that does not necessarily challenge the status quo. For example, one should always fear terrorists, Elmo says, but not Father dying after being sent to fight them. As well, feelings of anger should never be allowed to crystallize into rage, because this is known to lead to convictions – and, later in life – anti-government attitudes.

The adorably dangerous Elmo is seen here friendly-fire-bombing American troops to help demonstrate actual loss, and how death can strike anywhere at any time, even “unintended” targets like children at an Afghan wedding.

Elmo helps families grieve
Elmo helps families grieve

Of course, the above image is photoshopped. The burning corpse you see in Elmo’s imagination used to be a family man “in real life,” but now he is a hero. Elmo is a well-known and respected Patriot. And he helps families grieve.

BY GIVING THEM SOMETHING TO GRIEVE ABOUT.

That’s right, he really is firebombing your loved ones! This is because Sesame Street hates America and has systematically undermined her power-hungry, Emperial nature from the very beginning by propagating messages of non-violence and “understanding,” contradicting our actions overseas, and making us look weak before China and Mother Russia, outspoken violence advocates.

“At this point,” explained Admiral Mullen of the United States Army, “they may as well sabotage our new F22 Raptors, which if you’ll look behind me are– what the fuck? ELMO, NO!

This message brought to you graciously by Lebal Drocer, Inc.
Your PREMIERE War Contractors!

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There is an Apocalypse of Information

– 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?

Phil's heartbeat pulls blood into the atrium
Phil's heartbeat pulls blood into the atrium

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.