.
Behave.
Or, at least, try to.
A friend of mine has been turned out.
Inside out. And I am not at all ashamed to pass anyone's mind. He had studied international law at the medical cheder of Nightmare Discotheque. And all those hags from Berkley are actually just another computer-generated culture. Culture is the EVIL. Enter the vacuum and learn the secrets of mankind so that they could travel fast at your expense. With all this technology they can see more and clearer. It's like the last isle of Dr Moreau. Your noble citizens have disappeared from your side - they are humans, are they not? There are no more real books in their shelves, just text and theory, their shiny houses decorated with posters of it. It is clear that in such a situation I am sure that none of my thoughts are appliable to the Department of Psychology - I know it's just a part of some vicious game. Who is the real devil? Well, go ask Stanislaw Lem about the very essence of the mistakes of culture, and then you may forget your rotten teeth and get a prothesis from the Progress publishers (Moscow), they have all the technology necessary. The lesser culture of slimies has been living our lives, image means nothing. What they want is fucking bestsellers. Money changes love is money. First they take your shoes, then go through your pockets. Corpses are being carried out. They are not dedicated to the theme of straightforward thinking. (In the internet people are forced to change their identity every other day. They are no better than in real life.) No-one had to read them anymore, they just vanished from the face of this planet. But still, some of the original idea dwells in the hearts of all of us. Enter the fact that life runs away from forced fitness and youthanausea. Now nothing is left. Everybody is just watching Marlon fucking Brando and his opposite. Nobody knows who you really are. How silly and stupid, my dear little friends.
After my first reaction to the concept, it reached the fucking peak seeing the currents of utter disgust. The human heart had a ball offering these atrocities, and I felt incredible - not by the action spear - so the visual scan watching me taking a hot shower, depicted by the hot stimulus (central to the actual anti-bacterial movement), but you mustn't break the lying fuit soap. The Sunday representation tells you how to react to it in terms of post-nuclear dogma. The social painkiller. Or how about India, where no birth control is possible, so it will go bang in twenty years or so? The commie China is based on control, so one-child policy is possible. So now I am such a hypocritical priest with his headon telephone traffic, the journey going through a nasty dirty old man. I saw him as he entered the bus, but he didn't recognize me. I reached for his sleeve and said a few words. He sat by my side and we got off at the same bus stop. Went for a beer to some local place that looked like some weird mixture of a pub and a grocery store. He bought several bottles of beer and soft drinks (sheesh, I'd never go for bottled beer), and when I got to the table with a pint in my hand, there was something really weird going on. He had poured some liquid from a bottle of beer into a glass, and now he was filling up another bottle with lemonade.
"The nephesh! Cut the nephesh!"
Of course, the lemonade was synthesized with bad results. It was real only in the sense that my friend had some ideas about it. They are the soul killers. The image of a human soul is comparable to the U.S. constitution. There was no decent translation of the text in question, so he took the freedom of inserting the idea of psyche. The concept of the soul exists only in the thoughts of people who are normally veiled in a black robe, and it has been most effectively used by those who had it removed to use my garden to grow stolen credit chips. This means that you might have a family somewhere, but after being hit hard with a frying pan and their cellular phones, you are finally taken as a hostage, and replaced according to the agenda of mind control. Therefore the soul is very easy to take away without ceasing to breathe. The feeling you get is like having a special condom protecting the soul, and thus you wouldn't recall anything of what once was. The psyche is replaced by a home, as several black Caddies arrive. Therefore they might just take us away - there are 39 webdesigners chatting with girls, silly loving glances, bandits dancing with bastard sons. Happy, happy! They have been there all night, never taking off their eyeballs. Those who have been (or are deemed to end up) with moderate optimism and recombinations and superimpositions of no activity or new ideas, do not sense it - the third view to the end of the planetary silence with their ideas concerning the end. People have kept their ideas of controlled societies, where all reality is built and given to public use. We are waiting for a complete picture of the human neural architecture. There is no time for surgery, we need something more efficient. Listening to all this makes me see the dawning of a new culture. Deculture. It is based on excluding the naked intelligence and nothing else. I don't care about the past, because it is definitely not art, and might be present only for the UFO board. It is capable of rewiring you, and almost ready to apply the technique to anyone they might want. The key doesn't fit, and my so-called friends deny any knowledge of me. They are future politicians. They'll bathe a better future for us all, and I shall finally cease to exist. Even the children of my former friends deny any knowledge of me, when I am twenty miles away from my actual body, and you will end up like every one of them. As it is neurochemical, it would be advised to stay away from planet Earth.
But now I am still forced to walk the streets in the old style and feel like a goddamn cripple. Life is like the grimace on our faces walking along, wearing the same imaginary faces that walk, being so nice, tried to be horrible, no mirrors, jurst portraits. Nothing gets away from here. Everyone should know that my garden causes no shame or humiliation, once the burden is left alone. And everybody knows me. Nobody even cares, although this is more like a robbery. I wouldn't care to be there to wish you luck.