During this universal 2-minute moment, we were supposed to think about what we could do to stop elevating the background of life to the status of being life itself. And how, until we'd achieved that, we should at least work to stop saying, "Oh well -- That's life," each time we achieve the diametric fucking opposite.

After the moment of silence, during the first moment of post-silence, we are supposed to be thinking more worldly things like: "No more blocking users from accessing your user list, and logging off users who are accessing your system," in order to ease the transition back.

Then, after the first moment of post-silence, we are supposed to push all our own best self-known buttons in order to con ourselves into boldly accepting the necessity of the preceding 2 moments, and into reminding ourselves that this is the best that can happen even when you adequately incentivize a standards body to develop a common platform.

At least, you knew, as a result of the unflinching universal adherence to these standards, that way out on some periphery of some surface somewhere, a blow was being struck against whomever or whatever deserved to have a blow struck against them or it.

And, besides, we still have many intervening moments of freedom left over to go berserk in, which I was doing at the time, while being mindful, however, that it could only, under present circumstances, be done at the rate of a micron per day.

These microns would then be laid end to end in the heart of all heartlessness. And made anxious by objects, concepts and situations entirely unknown to them and humans.

They would then be passed through filters which, under normal circumstances, should NOT be seen or heard, but which were, under THESE circumstances, becoming louder and more visible each day -- calling into question whether or not we were now still under normal circumstances, or if we ever had been.

Being sensitive, it was tough to go forward, for fear that a single spell check error could have the same cascading effect on the future as the fuckup of a single allele in the DNA strip of a single human who would now not go on to save the universe, or a single letter differentiating 2 sound-alike pop star names leading to erroneous, misplaced rumors which nonetheless terminate 2 careers and whole cultural strains along with them.

So, look out! You gotta go on TV and be ultra-simplistic about it, or even be ultra-simplistic about it OFF TV, and blame the simultaneous all-encompassing global fuckup on the day the helium sanity seeped out of your mass-murder 3-year-old's balloon and he never wanted to see reality unsmashed up, again.

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