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C H I N A ?

CHINAAAAA! Is it really you?! My long lost country, China?! Father & Mother of multitudinous larval offspring, Air/Fire/Water/Earth turned corporate green grocer and nouveau entrepreneur?! Is it really you dear China?! Oh my, I haven't been this joyous since, well, not since they ran that swimsuit photo spread of the late Mother Theresa, Oh My!

YEAH MAN!! I saw that too, it made me so hard I came right thru my brainpan, squirting sausages that looked like puppies, freaked me out, oh yeah, I ran outside, grabbed the garden hose and started washing cars as they drove by, jumpin' up and down hosing cars slipping and sliding all over the street yelling: "PUPPY SAUSAGES!" over and over, then the police took me to Montauk (I'm pretty sure you don't want to go there, China), and I was sittin' at this cop-looking businessman-type guy's desk, and as he was questioning me about stuff like who was president and what year it was, his tongue kept flicking out like a snake. Freaky, oh yeah, real long and narrow, I swear it was forked. It would flick out all over the desk, and there were papers all over the desk so the tongue would, like, stick to the papers for a second and rise up off the desk, so all these papers were jumpin' all over the desk cuz his tongue was jumpin' all over the damn place (got stuck on a desklamp once); it was so weird, I couldn't concentrate on what the hell he was asking me, kinda funny too in a sick way, but I sorta felt embarrassed for him when his tongue got stuck on the lamp and a lady cop helped him disentangle it while making lewd comments to him. I told him he should report her for sexual harassment. Bad scene. All it takes is one loose element to fuck everything up. Oh yeah, but I got out, I got out, I got out, uh huh. Walkin' across I was... took a while, lost everything, but my walkin'... Yeah, listen China, okay, well, there I was, minding my own business, walking down the street, thinking about the horrors of my life and wondering how in the hell I would ever possibly come to grips with the emotional toll being extracted from my body, mind and soul when a strange old woman pushing a shopping cart containing an even stranger old gentleman blocks my way. As the two stare at me intensely crazy-eyed, they at first speak in eery unison and gradually just the old woman alone speaks:

"Young manchild poised at pre-mid life, are you aware of the nefarious plots which surround us and shape our drone-like destinies?

"Did you know that the secret 'Lady Di/Mother Theresa Cabal' was busted up by the evil soldiers of the Dodecahedra-Lateral-Commission, who are in covert league with the Apocalyptic Polar Shift Priests and Priestesses of the Nouveau World Order? Not forgetting that the Millennial Earth Changes of Immanent Doom will be bypassed with a generous assist from the global holographic neural-interfacing 'mindshow' promulgated by the ascended poli-engineers disguised as disk-flying extra-interdimensional sentient space beings of mysterious origins, motives and convoluted politics? Meanwhile, hordes of silent, hybrid mutations - overpopulating our technologically sovereign borders with copies of 3D straight to video, digital disk, virtual 'feelies', in search of a better 'player' - overtask the cyberguards and barcode-scanning, laser-tower-cameras, thereby activating a high alert signal to all the secret black project orbiting satellites? All as backdrop to a UN conference on the manipulation of the human endocrine system, hence the emotions, through the introduction of synthetic additives to the world's food supply. Attended by the 'unknown-to-each-other' xx/xy chromosome protagonists working for separate corporate governments with an agenda of straight across the board sabotage, who decide at the last most intense moment to chuck it all and sing opera for a living. Music, an alternating trip hop underground electronic jungle cinematic acid jazz Mozart - Sibelius classical fusion. With lots of brainwave altering lighting effects... and authorities on high serenely observe the spectacle?"

I was speechless. It felt like years that I stood there listening to the strange old woman with her shopping cart companion. What could I say?
"Uh, no... no, I did not know that, but, uhm, thanks for telling me."
I emptied my pocket of loose change and gave it to the old man in the cart. The hood's getting a little weird. Maybe it's time to move.

Could be...

Could be...

Could be...

Airborn Jellyfish Alert!

Later, China, my fave country: China! *sniff* Such a long time, and here it is, practically the end of the world already, and all the people we know and love are nearly dead.

Don't contact us, China, until you figure all this out. Good luck China!


Last Ride On Planet Earth! a.k.a.: "Out to lunch with Squirrels".
(No relation to "Dances With Wolves").

On second thought, don't contact us China, we'll contact you! The Men In Black are hot on our trail; they're pissed off because we've been blowing the whistle on their bogus 2012 big "omega" end-times, mind-rot, bullshit memetic cultural programming gambit to apply artificial stressors to vulnerable segments of our society who fall into a lock-step, herd-instinct mentality. The Men in Black just hate it when someone laughs at their silly games designed to increase global industrial development and the distortion of production values through applied stress. Their avenue of strength is through urban myths and rural legends, cognitive dissonance through hyper-weirdness is their thing, plus a heavy dose of unrelenting, remorseless oppression and intolerance towards anything which falls outside of their narrowly defined socially acceptable parameters.

If you contact us, China, they'll be on your ass in no time: extremely low frequency surveillance and entrainment, search and siezure - institutionalization, and barcode tatooing on your forehead in epidermal infrared mag-ink! Then the Genome Scientists will get a hold of your precious bodily fluids. You might as well forget about it when that happens.

©1997 MT

   The Rape of Nanjing        TIBET

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