Reality is flowing and reality is ebbing on an oblique mile-wide boundary of
misinformation. As it’s spring I’ll be as antithetical an umbra as an umbra ever
was, i.e., I’m not just throwing shade, i.e., my flights of fancy seek to serve. I’m
reaping all of my rewards at once. To make of nothing a production, data mine
and damn the data to eternal bliss. The bliss kicks in, the worms crawl out, from
virtuosity ten thousand hours of winding down, the ice to slide on as by accident
then by injunction. No one sees it for more than three minutes; is the tour de
France in fact of all of France? I hereby sing the feedback loop into existence.
The Shibboleth Of Theseus
One if via virtue, two if via vice. If Muzak be the comfort food of idle preference,
play or not see if I care. If sunk cost is to white noise as white noise is to el
corazón, i.e., an interesting impediment, the menace meets the mailbox so the
menace is unmade, and information enters the misinformation bubble. On the
interactive star chart, hover over any planet and you’ll know that planet’s name.
Three hundred thousand of us jointly own the three-by-three outdoor enclosure
but choose not to use it because we have everything we need.
Be honest. Which contains the other, the idea or the thing? Which guarantees the
other a soft landing? Jealously I guard my wave state. Once per postulate to
sudden-change the wave state waits. The ends of tentacles but touch. Get used to
being a pariah. They may worship you but they won’t let you in the house. I do
not run with scissors, scissors run with me. The butterfly’s surprise is nullified by
whispering or surreptitious signing or the butterfly reads lips. The butterfly and I,
we always pay the asking price so we don’t have to bargain. Are you
extrasensory-perceiving what I’m extrasensory-perceiving? To be fair it is my
Linear Accelerator 2
As I was blind but now I’m innocent and I need kill nor eat no goat so this
scenario is going to a cinema far far away. This quicksand packs, as once, no
punch. The ship of Theseus is in the chop shop, less than the sum of its parts. The
faith of my great great great grandfather is clam-shell packaged, i.e., what I see is
what I get. The frequency of epilepsy is the perfect crime of crows. The ABD will
see you now, course work completed. Expectation is updated daily. What one
knows with 90% certainty is 95% cliché. Adverbially modifying an inaction, I’ll
be independent of what chickens have on offer when truncated cones of
styrofoam in chain-link spell out messages of maybe love and maybe loss.
Attenuated logarithmically, I’ll notice nothing strange. As latitude to wiggle room
so longitude to sudden change.
Plato’s chair collapses to hilarious effect and dogs evolving pave the way to outer
space. Where curvature is certain, in earth’s umbra we may take no rest. They also
serve who don’t exist. Depending on which axis my head rotates I might answer
yes or no. Astronomy and personality go separate ways. The village willing but
the boy who cried wolf weak, I’m quite requited thank you. Prison A and Prison B
may swap their convicts. I’ll escape acceleration and acceleration’s rate of change.
We’re looking at a grand piano and a spiral staircase and the skeptics need be on
guard always, the believers need believe but once.