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I moved to Aljersia and rented a place where I thought if I could just sit and stew at the right frequency, my seething heart would automatically percolate out to all the world's satellite receivers -- and become the first salvo in a whole new genre of pure, passive, disestablishment terrorism. But I was wrong.
I was affectionately known by my neighbors as "the Time Bomb from Outer Space that Cried."
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To repay their kindness, I decided to build a research institute at the center of town, dedicated to them, named after me, and mono-maniacally committed to advancing the cure for whichever was the disease: -- desire or its absence. Thus was born "Most Fucked Up Person Alive Institute for Research into Whichever is the Disease:-- Desire or Its Absence."
In no time, the quality of our work had earned us the grudging respect of our many charlatan colleagues and detractors from all over the world, and all across that conceptual terrain where understanding is supposedly an issue.
Book: TABLE OF CONTENTS |