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What was the song on Dad’s old REM album? “Shiny Happy People”? That was Nessie.
These days, misinformation—or really, disinformation—seemed so ubiquitous, it suffused the air, as common as pollen in spring.
The system would protect itself. It wouldn’t protect people. It would protect money and the people who make it. Nothing would change. Nobody’s out there making a universal flu vaccine because the money doesn’t support it. Nobody’s making new antibiotics because—again? No money in a cheap pill with a short prescription life.
“And who I am is someone with depression, and that means you can’t just pray it away. It’s not a mood, Matt. I’m not just sad. It’s like I’ve got a hole inside my mind and inside that hole is a…a voice. Sometimes it’s loud, sometimes it’s quiet, but it’s always, always there. That voice tells me that I’m not good enough, and the world is going to hell, and nothing matters. I’ll never be a famous artist. The coral reef is bleached and dead. I’ll never have more kids than the one we have. I’ll die without ever accomplishing anything and it doesn’t matter anyway because global warming is going to
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Experts were supposed to know shit. And they didn’t know anything.
It’s like they’re a bunch of Spider-Mans. Spider-Men. Whatever. Shit.”
Here’s how we do things in America: We identify a problem, then we promptly ignore it until it’s not just biting our ass, but it’s already eaten the right cheek and has started on the left.
He made a face. Phish. Jam-bands were a virus.
He was just going to do it. He wasn’t going to say shit about it, he was just going to casually disconnect from it all, like Homer Simpson easing backward into that fucking hedge.
Still, the Spanish flu of 1918 started humble, too…that flu emerged first as a mild strain in the spring of that year, but by late summer had mutated into something far worse. By the end of its run, it had killed forty million people—more than those dead in World War I.
JAKE TAPPER: Some actors and directors have come out hard against you in recent days, lining up behind President Hunt despite their earlier criticisms of her presidency. What do you say to that? ED CREEL: I say it’s time everyday Americans stop lining up behind those Hollywood elites. I represent them, not her. JT: And what do you say to those who suggest you’re a Hollywood elite, sir? After all, in the 1990s you produced a number of films and often pal around with producers and film financiers, not to mention your net worth is in the billions, not millions, which I have to tell you, seems
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Scientists say the heat wave was unprecedented, and likely contributed to a number of extreme weather events in the past six months, including a series of so-called bomb cyclones that devastated New England…
Everything’s connected now. It’s not just phones and tablets and cameras. It’s doorbells. It’s refrigerators. It’s sex toys! Sex toys are talking to each other! Shit, I know a fella has a trailcam, you know, for hunting? That talks to the web via a cellular signal. The Internet of Things, hell, more like the Internet of Big Brother. The goddamn Panopticon. You can be sure Hunt and her lib-witches are watching us all. Maybe even controlling us. These things talk to each other and they use them to control us. Like fluoride in the water, chemtrails in the air, we’re getting it coming and going.
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There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened. —Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
“Think of how fast airports will have already moved this thing around the globe. Think of how fast cholera spread in Yemen, or how quickly H1N1 moved around the globe. Bat populations have been rent asunder, and now snakes…” Worldwide extinction, he thought, but did not say. “Even if this thing takes down one percent of the global population—that’s seventy million people. On par with the Spanish flu of 1918. It’d be like the entire population of the United Kingdom thrown into a mass grave.
A fire broke out backstage in a theatre. The clown came out to warn the public; they thought it was a joke and applauded. He repeated it; the acclaim was even greater. I think that’s just how the world will come to an end: to general applause from wits who believe it’s a joke. —Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or, part 1
“I’m not sure what’s worse,” he told her, “a world dying by losing itself to delirium, or a dying world jacked up on Ritalin.”
Because the inescapable truth was, though he did not write the scripts, it was he who spoke them. He was not their origin point, but he was damn sure their delivery system. Which meant he was a contagion, too. Not of some virus or bacteria or fungus. But spreading an infection of bad ideas.
They’re…coming together, these people, these militias. Joining forces. Turns out, a lot of people in this country have been building up their arsenals, waiting for a moment like this.”
Humankind was a disease. The earth was the body. Climate change was the fever.
The airports are all closed. Gas stations are running out of gas. A lot of us have the disease. Best we can do is eat, drink, fuck, and did I mention drink? Cheers, everyone. @TheCompiler01 4 replies 7 RTs 12 likes
