In the early years of his life he stayed in the tank and when asked by his guidance counselor what he was passionate about would say I'm passionate about my saliva.

As an adult he computer-generated laws from word-frequency distribution tables drawing from all levels of sanity, all realms of experience, all bodies of knowledge and all libraries of disinformation and wrong conjecture.

And though everything from all elementary particles to all people obeyed these laws, still, he wasn't satisfied.

He bought a big house way out with lots of acreage.

Immediately there was a cruise missile attack and he was nearly killed. When the satellite came by, he pretended to be dead so they wouldn't attack again. Apparently he'd looked at someone the wrong way, once.

Later he thought the answer must lie way back with the first photon. He went back and followed the photon from its origin through the human suffering of people who died mining the substance that would one day redistribute that original photon, and many other fucking subsequent photons, throughout the social construction of reality as well as the cosmos itself.

What did he learn from that experience?

He learned that it was important to stay very very loaded, all the time.

As a result, he went on a binge, applying this same approach to other travels where a single tiny taken-for-granted phenomenon of everyday life is traced from its origins in physics and history, on through its effects on biology, cognition, and sociology.

But then he got to a point where I guess he was just too fucking lazy to even begin to bother anymore, and so everything he started was stopped near its beginning and the rest was left as an exercise for the reader to perform at home in his or her spare time.

Meanwhile, he was secretly writing the book: "Spam Yourself to Fame and Fortune", which proposed a way to become rich and famous by sending massive amounts of spam TO YOURSELF. And "anybody could do it!!"

He ultimately made so much money from book sales and speaking and lecturing on this technique that he was able to do anything he wanted.

So he decided to travel around dressed as different classes, occupations, and personality types, trying to breach security wherever he went.

This was because he felt that if you didn't have to breach major security to do it, and if you weren't being hunted down for it even now, then doing SOMETHING felt almost exactly like doing NOTHING! And he didn't want to feel that way.

So usually he'd just try to social engineer his way in -- like when he'd come scrambling up the hill from the valley and be met by a uniformed armed guard standing along the roadside eyeing him suspiciously. "Yeah, OK, so I was busy the day everybody scrambled up the hill," he'd say. "But I really don't belong down in that valley anymore, now do I? (wink wink)"

He kept score of how many times the guard would let him in vs. how many times he was arrested in the hopes that there'd be other people doing the same so the score would have some meaning.

But there weren't so it didn't but he didn't give a flying fuck because he was way way beyond fucking desire.

And because he knew that no matter how stupid external circumstance, or how vapid life itself, a neurochemical equilibrium prevailed across all historical time -- in other words, the way people feel has the same distribution across the population regardless of where or when it's measured. In that sense, nothing has changed in the fucking world except the trappings with which neurochemistry associates its selves.

Then the phone rang. It was his ex-wife, drunk on her ass again. But she still maintained total telepathic connection with him for reasons doctors, lawyers and information specialists couldn't fathom.

"What you're thinking," she told him, "is really just somebody else's dream interfering with remnants of your own past dreams."

OK. So those were the upsides. And all he had to do with the downsides (which nobody had realized before) was conceptualize them away through ignorance or irony.

Or sleep through them again.

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