axisflip cryptofinancial

Categories
Status Quo

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.

axisflip cryptofinancial

Categories
Entertainment

hot dog it

axisflip cryptofinancial

Categories
Entertainment Uncontrollable Patriotism

CNN and FOX affiliates announce new patriotic reality show

Catch an all-new season of War Sundays at nine after King of the Hill or something
Catch an all-new season of War Sundays at nine after King of the Hill or something

NEVER FORGET to watch “WAR” this Fall on FOX!

From the fearless leaders who brought you such wars as “Viet Nam” and “Korea – Dawn of the Hellicopter!” comes Afghanistan – a tactical operation which promises to be “a fun-filled action-packed romp through the desert the whole family can enjoy.”

Just like Wuss-ass General Patreus (more like Betrayus, amirite!?), who originally requested 40,000 more troops to go into Iraq, General Stanley wants forty thousand for Afghanistan. But Obama’s a God Damn World Hero who hates losing so he threw the controller down and said, “Fuck Iraq. America didn’t lose. I fuckin’ quit, motherfuckers. Where da hood at nao!” At first, this motherfucking foot-cock wanted to go so hard into Afghanistan on “counter-terrorism episodes” that will leave no man, woman or child without a urinary-tract infection.

“But then,” he reportedly thought, “It would be bad for ratings.” Even reality show producers who don’t know how to write a story knows there needs to be a visible conflict. Bark Obama refuses to help by sending extra forces because, like every good Starcraft player knows, it wouldn’t be very fun to crush the enemy with a sizable force, neither for the generals nor viewers like you at home. You gotta give ’em a show. “And that’s what we’re doing,” the President said, as he fingered Hillary’s Clittin behind the scenes.

I fucking love this show, bitches! Sometimes I sometimes get so turned on by realistic violence that I’ll insubordinate my abusive husband just to get a taste. LOL YOU COULD SAY I’M BLOOD-THIRSTY FOR WAR!

-A desperate housewife

This season of War! Terror on the Homefront promises “more tactical missile strikes, more calls for the ‘MEDIC!’ and less of that ‘blah blah blah why-are-we-here?’ interjection” that dogged the series premiere in 2003.

*silent jerking-off hand motion*

America, brace yourselves for The War on Terror, Part II: Overseas Contingency Operation. Catch it Sunday.

Did you miss Sunday’s episode? Like herpes IT’S COMING BACK! but FASTER! Watch it again Thursday nights at nine, following Everybody Loves Raymond Even Though He’s a Draft-Dodging Faggot.