Category: Fiction
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They’re Coming
The city stretched like a scabrous centipede, its neon lights pulsing like infected ganglia. Bill Lee, face etched with a roadmap of past addictions, weaved through the throng, his trench coat flapping like a tattered wing. Reality, a flimsy scrim, threatened to tear at any moment, revealing the writhing chaos beneath. A cockroach scuttled across…
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South Park Episode #
INT. SOUTH PARK ELEMENTARY – CAFETERIA – DAY Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny are picking at their mystery meat lunch. A news report blares from the mounted TV. ANCHORMAN (V.O.) In breaking news, a group of elderly Floridians have declared war on Facebook! STAN Huh? KYLE Floridians? Declaring war? This sounds stupid, even for Florida. The camera cuts…
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1984
Forget dials and telescreens for a sec, man. Orwell wasn’t just serving up Big Brother’s boot on your face, he was carving reality with a rusty switchblade. This perpetual war, it’s like a roach motel for the Oceania proles. Stuck in a feedback loop of fear and propaganda, pumped full of manufactured enemies – Eurasia…
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The Feedback Loop of Carnage: Lesser of two Evils
The roach motel of American politics stretches out before you, neon vacancy signs flickering a binary choice: red or blue, Dem or Repub. A tired hologram, the duality of man repackaged for the flickering screens of reality TV. But the real game is rigged by invisible control. The corporations are the Yakuza of this dystopian…
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RAM
Attention Junkies in the RAM Scramble The man in the black trench coat, synapses fried from another newsfeed binge, stumbled through the neon jungle. His cortex buzzed like a faulty motherboard, overloaded with clickbait headlines and sponsored content. This was the 21st century, the age of RAM wars, where corporations wrestled for scraps of your ever-dwindling attention…
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Ordinary Geniuses
In the wild cacophony of existence, there exists a peculiar truth, a paradox that dances on the fringes of sanity and embraces the chaotic rhythm of life. It’s the tale of genius, of brilliance that flickers like a flame in the dark, burning bright before being snuffed out by the mundane forces of mediocrity. It’s…
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the future ain’t written yet, just scrawled on a napkin in a dimly lit bar.
Man, the future’s a greasy carnival mirror, funhouse reflections of ourselves stretched and warped by the latest tech snake oil. Each new rung on the ladder, shiny and promising, but harboring more shadows than a back alley at midnight. Politicians, greasy-palmed and power-hungry, latch onto it first, sniffing out another trough to feed at. Winners…
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Press Gang
The air hung thick with the stench of datasprawl, a miasma of tickertape sweat and corrupted code. The financial sector, once a chrome-plated cathedral of wealth, now resembled a derelict pleasure dome, its circuits humming a dirge of lost algorithms. Interzone, the digital id underbelly, had slithered in, its tendrils worming their way into every…
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Bootstrapping
Flesh and steel, man, simmering in this lukewarm broth of hype. Been waiting for the cracks to show, the chrome to peel, reveal the writhing pink meat of the lie. Bootstrap yourself? More like strap yourself to a runaway rollercoaster, ticket punched by invisible gremlins cackling in the void. Yeah, been watching the tendrils of…
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Emporiun Imperium
Dig this, man. Imagine an emporium, a bazaar bursting with vibrant chaos. Spices from faraway lands mingle with trinkets of unknown purpose, hagglers weave their magic, and every corner whispers secrets under flickering lamplight. It’s a place of exchange, of haggling and hustling, a microcosm of life itself, messy, beautiful, and ever-shifting. See, the emporium…