It seems to Have a Will

An individu'l, prone to corruption
As opposed to a state of the people
Becomes a criminal of loneliness,
And to Chaos of the Senses, a bride.
Under these conditions, I spawned a K.

Tissue structure in mummy flesh is real.
Plugged into this, with blood, is how we feel:
Not some Frankenstein, but a Pavlov's dog,
Responsive as nudists in soft meadows.
One mind can drive multiple bags of meat.

Este tio lleva sus cojones
Como mola porque si que puede.
Chango toma nubes de tobacco,
Mono lo que pasa'n los pulmones.
Come las cabezas de sudacos.

Why?

Today's Epiphany
with Ted

They've finally figured out a workaround for the disanimate flesh energy sourcing question. Watch these mummy monarcas process insects caught up in they flying f-suit nets.

[insert video of actual x-ray digestion taking place in the rubbry digestive tract of a mummified pre-historic bird]

It's called "assisted automated bioprocedural response," and from all indications to date, it's worth everything.

The capture and processing of living matter while in flight implementing god-made organs enshrined in Pharmsupply Latex 40, the transformation of waste into a self-lubricatory system for metallic parts as well as a combover for the ozone layer-- this means sustainability, but even more important, perpetual motion.

Re-mote Decision-ang

Ref. remote muscular proxy (RMP), remote tissue decisioning (RTD), remote muscular proxy piloting (RMPP).

You Pray

She got a gold-hoop earring big as her coffee-can curlers, awbe rocking wal she make somebody dead.

Chamatilly lay down on her feathers an brooding about the life of a forced priestess an how empty.

She imagine back 1000 WD to Reptily. Prolly robbn and theivn. Stop to chat.

You still there in my heyud? You know now I laik to die but am Mos Beloved Woma instead. They preparing me for a remote control where after I go my body and soul will operate forever, an even betr. Whut would you do if you were me nau Reppie. Jump in the Mthyuh is not a option because that's feed the Shiv and the shiv is the medsin make erybody twitchie. They could jus clip awdats hangin onda mens an a red shiv onda hormonz of da bitches but they wanna controe awda flow of that shit an how an whenit cum an go."

Reptily right then cut a man troat in the street, straddle him on the little-stone pavement, hold him at the collar, jus about ready to drop him and check for coins when she hear Chama cutting in. Reptily hear through holes in the sides of her heyud. She got a big gold hoop earring that be rocking wal she make somebody dead. Nau pausing in the pool of a street light, she look up proudly, speaking to a dark filthy cave hole where in the futr could be her later sef. Imagine she say:

"Nau Chama, you seem all holy an really clean an yor bress be poppn. They give you a steam shower in the Purl Falls and show you pruisnear all the tention any grl can get at da oracle an you prolly takn care of Moms in a high chank with furs and meats. You sad nau; you thinkn volca will be so painfol. Onee one thing you can do woma an that is pray, get down, get down and pray. Get down Chama. Get down, get down..."

Chamatilly interrupt Reptily rustic song from the firs WD:

"You pray, Mthyahphka. You phkn pray. You get down and pray."

One thing Chama know now is awda captivity an torcher an brainwashing also have some character building effek like if you survive, religion seem like booshia.

Reptily, back in oltimey land clutch a bluddie collar, make a ded man hed bob backward laik his neck is talkn wal she check his pockets:

"Get down, you got to get down, get down, you got to get down..."

Nau she laf'n walk away an you can see her spines down the neck and back, flip a liberty coin in the air an catch it.

"Bastards and your easy wages. I take your future!"

Whus yor Brank Tace Laik?

I stayed home, had lots to do, but sat instead
in th' middle of the flo wunning cuddle so bad.

when biology and geology mesh, you have oil,
or you have something like the Pegyuh, both-

ered by metallic scales and minerally salivar-
y mucosae. They've fixed it so it grows out o-

f her but remains viable for years beyond de
-ath. She's the first we'll have the chance to w

-atch nearly shrivel and be driven, in essenc
-e, by her own hearse, the product of her ow-

n body, like a toenail, cum or hair. We inserte
-d the programmable chips shortly after birth.

As her brain dies, the RC signals will increase.
Her hideous exoskeleton will finey b in r hanz.

No scientist can give me what ahm illin fo this
eve: a barl-chest'd man t' put m'arms around.

Cuz I say Volca at vespers an will gonna have
d' will of awda peoples, dey think i can replace

her. What dey don't wanna hear is how i've alr
-eady fayld by sendyn red shiv to d'opposition.

My brank tace laika bright copper penny, but t
-hat means it's cutting my yung perfek tongue.

Vine and Dope

Hoolie lungs hang on he shoulders deep as a crucifixion, cep he atta bar.
He keep watch there for anything that could go down in the drunk wurl.
Hoolie hold down those years of yore year after year for love, also fear.

What had survival become. Vine and dope, touch surfaces, shake hair,
fabrics like bandages, rocking and staring, truly caring? Him'n Donna, m
-irror balls on sheet of lights with others watching? Tam ended when the

dead stopped living, a long tam ago. Now they had to hold it there for all
of the butt-plug troopers who could no longer, no longer be, and no long-
-er aware. If you could only strap corpses into something stimulatory...

Limping K's Rock a Death Zoo

Pete Dikker, Chankside

Discovered late last night in Chang K. Chang, hundreds of K's in various states of consciousness literally drag claw in circles round a towering black shivbox. None of these med captives can fly, completely gimp even with their equipment set to Strong. I spoke with a scrawny, filthy boy as he attempted to tunnel out from under the fence with a guano sack through which only the faintest throbbing purple glow could be detected.

PETE DIKKER: Boy what's the point gathering their slry when they are so sick.
RUSTIC BOY: Not... sick... old... Pegyuh want the 12-year or nothin. All else... is rotgut.
PETE DIKKER: And when they expire for good. What then, sherlock?
RUSTIC BOY: They flesh is a mummify, and work better with remote.
PETE DIKKER: As tar-like raindrops crackle and splatter all around us and your tunnel begins to cave, what existential feelings are welling up in you now?
RUSTIC BOY: K's rock my emotion sickness... I live to feed the milk goddess so you can suck laif to yor generations... and find answers for mizzry'n strahf.
PETE DIKKER: If you could ask the camera any question about our world, now is the time.
RUSTIC BOY: First... does it merely hide chaos behind a facade of complexity? ...And if there is nothing around it... why isn't everything right next to it?

Apologia for a superstitious lifestyle, or true quest for the Pegyuh's favorite bar mixer? Private guano plant for a queen, or sadistic joke on a species for whom religion comes from a gene? While getting shot with flaming arrows by flakes and just before suffocating in liquid coal, RUSTIC BOY looked me in the eye and screamed. "Dey keep fline even wen dey ded! Soon deyl awbee macheenz! Wair can we go wen th'Mthyuh doned get fed? We Dai, We Daaaa...iii!"

Screen

Everyone started dreaming of a death. The death could have been a murder, and it had them all tossing and turning. It could have been any one of them. They just couldn't remember for sure because it had been so far back in their collective history.

They'd see one another sitting in a doctor's waiting room down at Pharm-Supply or standing in line for remote muscular pilot (RMP) debugging.

Chama, a 35-year-old topless black goddess, piped up:

Used to be they'd take you in a cave and show you which demon you had and try to scare it away. They assumed you were perfectly fine you know, it was the demon that was in you causing pro'ms chile.

Now I can't even say the name of the demon yall got even though I know what it is. Has to be a special ceremony for that. Incense cost money. Know what I mean?

I been scoured spiritually inside and out. They don't make me do that RMP stuff. I'm like the movie of a real woman you can see on the screen of your pain all the other times when I'm not present emotionally.

At What Cost?

IIXVI. ValveBox

Pain of resistance to muscular hackrights installations. Gets you amped up with glee by degrees. How do you want it? You are an emotion's palette. They paint you and you are developed. Developed by scientists at Pharm-Supply's seasonal headquarters in Pippi for use especially in conjunction with industrial gaming interfacial systems and state-sponsored Muscle Logic Dispensers (MLD's). Allows up to three glee degrees of resistance to muscular hackrights installation before dejective surrender and death. Not recommended for pain control during Remote Tissue Decisioning (RTD) sessions or debugging.

New Economy

Hoolie and Kype worked at the plant, plus a lot of overtime. They were more hours of the day than not covered with a fine grey powder of cemen-T, a byproduct of any pharmaceutical mining, processing, or packaging in those times. Kype gave Hoolie a lot of good advice. One time he told him to go and brush his teeth in the drinking fountain. Another time Kype told Hoolie to stop wearing underwear and also stop shaking his dick after he went to the kibo-flimp. Finally, he suggested that Hoolie take LSD, wear tight bellbottoms and shake his ass really hard main floor throughout a Foghat concert.

At break time they'd stop over at the White Hen Pantry for some food chunks or tobacco. They'd break nuts on the big stone for customers behind the ATM or walk back reminiscing about young life crawling through the chanks. Never knew what the next village was doing, especially during clusters. Chang K. Chang Chank was the "fordamall" chank (40 miles long).

They got the idea for the show from a Discover Channel doc-uality about the reanimation of flesh that was already or still animate. It turned out to be easier than to animate dead flesh.

So before long they were entertainment industry execs, and with their laptops they would force contestants to swing each other by the hair and throw one and the other against walls, etc. These folks were volunteers, and they were hard up, but it was painful for them, and it showed on their faces. Emotionally. We couldn't give them ValveBox because the muscles were not responsive beyond 5 steps of glee. So what most people watched as the show evolved was the tortured expressions in the players' countenances. One episode had both participants dressed as Joan Crawford. They seemed to be utterly humiliated and were almost killed. They wept as they were carried out, mascara smearing. They were also called contractees, associates, partners, members, guests, collaborators, stars, models, frontliners, foot soldiers, salt and pepper, caca, ganado, joiners.

Kype had a beak head and deep-blue feathers. He could lay his spectacles flat across his eyes, which had to look down to see straight ahead. He let a beat strike, and then turned his toucan-like nose toward his friend and mentee.

Hoolie. What's happening to us.