Round
Acid     The
Clock
Tuesday, September 7, 2004
The Quantum P of You Buncha D-bags
source: Uncertain
posted: Sept 7, 2004, 1:01 PM
by: abc
According to quantum physics you can say anything the fuck you want and it means whatever the fuck it wants to mean and the hearer, if any, hears whatever the fuck she wants to hear, because everybody's DNA is doing whatever the fuck IT wants to do, and so, really, we are all exactly the same person, so why do we want to kill each other so much?

It must be because we have chosen this universe where we all know what scumbags we all are and since we are all the same person, we know what scumbags everybody else is too and so how can we not, out of the purest most righteous righteousness, want to kill them in the most brutal fashion imaginable? Not to mention loving and forgiving them unconditionally when they come to kill US, because we know what scumbags they know we are too.

See, last year, we finally had our fucking revolution, but all the revolution queens had already been hanging out here for years in advance. So what do you do when you're a revolution queen and the revolution hasn't happened yet and you're just sitting around, day after day, waiting for it to catch fire?

Well, that's what being a revolution queen is REALLY all about: getting there early and hanging out often. Being, on a fundamental level, a political, social, technological tail-gater who's more there for the party in the parking lot before the slaughter starts, than for the actual slaughter itself. Because, at this point in history, everybody already knows that the fucking revolution, when it finally fucking HAPPENS, is over in an instant and then things just get real stupid again and real ugly again, real fast.

So one day, I think it was during the foreplay of the computer revolution, or the internet revolution, or the one that came after, the no-more-physics-as-we-once-knew-it revolution, everybody was just sitting around at revolutionary ground zero-to-be, all like, yeah, shit, so when are we gonna have our damn fucking revolution already? Those pigs are keeping us down, man! The time is now! motherfuckers! And shit like that.

But that only filled up a few minutes in the late morning and the party wasn't till late at night, so what are they gonna do in the meantime?

When the revolution happens, it happens because things have finally reached the singular point where catch-22 is momentarily suspended (as is allowed under quantum physics, which is really just the codification of the infinite number of catches and the ontological OK for their temporary suspension). Until then, the revolutionary, the revolutionary wannabe, the revolution groupie, the revolution queen, the revolution collateral damage wannabe, the revolutionary innocent bystander, must all practice opting out at all levels of being -- from the enzymatic and sub-cellular, to the social and global economic.

This means re-parsing the body on a cell-by-cell basis and specifically opting out of all conditions that had been automatically (by default) opted INTO at (before) birth.

At the end of this process, by definition, all bullshit will have been opted out of and a fire wall will have been erected against all future attempts at unauthorized opt-INS. Of course it has to be done fresh each day, which is fine, since it helps fill in the time.

And then, finally, if you live in California, you start going through the deathly motions of partying at around midnight, so everybody's peaking in their sickness unto death together at about 4:45AM, when CSPAN's Washington Journal's first guest is wired up and sat down across from the host.

The sound is off and the bottom third of the screen has been covered over with duct tape so no one knows who or what the guest is or what the fuck he's talking about. The revolution groupies queens and wannabes gather round the set. "Right wing think tank academic douche," one person shouts out.

"Former right wing journalist but now writes for left-leaning online website," another says.

"Lusts after a certain student," another revolution industry good ole boy calls out, "but is, in reality, fucking a student he doesn't wanna fuck one tenth as much as he wants to fuck the student he really wants to fuck -- but what the fuck."

"And his wife knows and doesn't give a shit," a revolution switch-hitter adds, "cause she hates his guts."

"No wait," the voice of reason intervenes. "He's really just the communications director for a small, not well-known NGO that is getting a lot of play lately because of specific world events which could not have been foreseen and so everybody was taken by surprise and had to scramble, and they wound up calling this fucking guy because he was the only one anyone had in their rolodex that was close enough to the context of the situation (if not the situation itself) to hopefully not sound like a total douche. But they were wrong."

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