Fight Stupid Consumerism!! Buy my fucking book!! The Washington 
Monday, Nov 15, 1999

Blood In All The Wrong Places
All day long, despite amplified broadcasts of gull distress calls and hundreds of decoys made to look like dying gulls, the swarm of living gulls hovering over the landfill continued to grow.

Garth Register Jr. a general contractor was there dumping debris from a construction job out the back of his Torino.

"There was no sound of panic on the voice recorder," he told Rebecca Kramer of Julian, who'd come to leave a lamp, a daisy-wheel printer, a bookshelf speaker, and a microwave oven.

"Instead of screaming or people barking orders or calling for help, the entire crew just seems to have been gathered together in the cockpit at the time, singing an up-tempo rendition of, 'Hey Hey Were the Monkees,' in near-perfect harmony, as though nothing were happening. The recording ended abruptly just as they finished the part about how 'people say we monkey around.'"

"Everyone was apparently under the mutually re-enforced delusion," he told Hollis Mosher, a retired steam-blaster who was illegally disposing of toxic goods hidden in sofas and chairs, "that they had all totally repented or reformed or de-toxed from or kicked the preceding mutually re-enforced delusion that stated how they'd all supposedly acquired or created or learned something. And that that something had been how to deal with the "previous-to-that" mutually re-enforced delusion that there was actual being being done here at all."

Register claimed he'd first consulted all the technical manuals for help, but every statement of so-called fact in them, always ended with some variation of " if it mattered."

And that, eventually, every discussion about "what does it mean?" always ended with people assigned to first go figure out what does "what does it mean?" really mean. I mean, REALLY mean.

Eventually, despite thousands of blank cartridges fired off in desperation, the gulls grew so numerous they would have blocked out the sun if it weren't night. But by morning, only discarded toaster ovens appeared to be missing.

Some picture of something that somehow seems to go with the text 
below, though sometimes the connection is so counter-cosmic that only Barry 
Diller gets it
AOL blah blah blah...

Microsoft blah blah blah

Amazon blah blah blah

ENTERTAINMENT blah blah blah

New E-Commerce server blah blah blah

Bank of Commerce Hospital Website blah blah blah

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