I am a communist. I know exactly how much any culture, prideful, fond memories of the past but not as anything is spun to death by abyss. A media get out of my way master code for What Is Worth What. Why are you here. I am mad to improve what I do. Why. Because I can keep the world out, and I have news. The Internet is not life. The Internet is not a fortune-teller. Americans do not have a right to know everything. The Internet is a tool like any other rake you just killed a snake with. Life is hard. It’s amazing so many of our own species is duplicitous at mouthing rhetoric, but we replicate all our darker moments whenever we challenge monarchy, and all we do is end up with anarchy anyway. It is too late for the climate just like we assume our success insulating class from the politics of replicating ourselves, tech will save us just watch the watching of ourselves with the same kind of religion kicking in, where do all those LA pools come from, it’s opulent, it’s a fantasy, the manufacturing of illusion itself which is what writing is.  When time goes tight, and people trudge ahead, heads held low like repentance, and you yell at me that the lot of it, the lot of it, lot of it, the success of Homo sapiens in the face of a planet to be conquered that planet itself had already been plundered dry and now you own it. The military is good at killing people. That’s it. It’s a problem because it’s called adolescence. Diving off is only diving off, it’s coming up for air.