Tag: Burroughs
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Scapegoats
The Unspeakable Real: A Lacanian Burroughsian Scapegoatology In the churning id of organizations and belief systems, a primal drama unfolds. The scapegoat, a spectral Other, becomes the stage upon which unspoken desires are projected. A witch hunt, a play defined by the absence of the Real (the true source of societal ills), demands a sacrifice.…
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The Permutation
The flickering neon sign above the noodle bar cast the alley in a sickly green glow. Case, his mirrored shades reflecting the fractured cityscape, finished his bowl of ramen and pushed the empty plastic tray aside. He tapped the worn neural jack at his temple, a gesture that felt as familiar as breathing. “Alright, Chiba,”…
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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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The Fix Is In, Man: How Tech Gurus Screw the Circuit (and Themselves)
Dig it, daddy-o: Man, dig this: progress. It’s a word like “love” or “freedom,” tossed around like loose change in a hobo’s pocket. But the essay, it’s got its eyes peeled. See, it’s hip to the racket: progress, it ain’t some benevolent Santa, it’s more like a greasy carny barker, hawking shiny gadgets while palming…
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The Paradoxical Dance of Libertarians and Public Choice Theory
Introduction: In the murky depths of political discourse, libertarians and public choice theory engage in a twisted tango of unrequited affection and bitter irony. As we delve into this murky realm, we uncover the tangled web of contradictions that bind these strange bedfellows. Public choice theory, a cold and clinical analysis of political machinations, reveals…
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The Naked Lunch of Attention
Music, once a virus of the soul, a sonic worm burrowing into the meat of consciousness, has been lobotomized by the Soft Machine. Chopped into bite-sized dopamine nuggets, it’s pumped into the veins of the masses through the IV drip of the Attention Economy. Music, once a tangible fix, now a digitized roach motel for…
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The Criminal
Knox, that crusty old codger, knew the game better than most. Crime fiction, see, it’s a delicate dance, a tightrope walk over a pit of reader expectations. Toss in some random schmuck as the culprit, some dusty hobo fresh off the freight train, and the whole damn house of cards comes tumbling down. Readers, they…
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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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The Ten Commandments (Interzone Remix)
Deep in the control zones, where steel meets flesh and reality bends like a junkie’s dream, the Word squirmed into existence. Not whispered by angels, but carved by the iron claws of power, the Ten Commandments pulsed with the cold logic of control. Commandment One: No static but mine. Tune in, tune out, but stay…