Good Ideals, Good Ideas or Good Deals. Choose Only Two.

Forget ideals, chum. Ideals are glittering junk in the psychic storefront, promises that morph into rusty chains once you sign on the dotted line. Shiny promises that curdle in your gut. You want somethin’ real, somethin’ that’ll kick your ass and leave you breathless, not some sugar-coated lie.

Now, ideasideas are the writhing serpents in the pit of your skull. They hiss and coil, tempting with forbidden fruit. Some are poisonous, some are potent. You gotta learn to pick the ones that’ll juice your mind, not leave it stewing in a vat of confusion. No, you gotta crave good ideas, man. Raw, writhing concepts that slither out of the muck of your subconscious, ideas that make your synapses sizzle like a roach on a hot plate. Ideas that challenge the meat circus, that poke holes in the control grid. An idea that slices through the bullshit, a scalpel for the festering sores of society. Imagine it, man, a thought-virus that infects the masses, a revolution birthed in a bathtub epiphany. But even ideas can curdle, turn into dogma, another brick in the prison wall.

Now, deals? Deals can be a slippery slope. You might snag a temporary high, a fleeting pleasure, but the Grey Boys are always watching. They’ll come collect their pound of flesh, their cut of the psychic pie. But hey, if a deal lands in your lap, a genuine win-win that throws a monkey wrench into the System’s gears, then maybe, just maybe, it’s worth the gamble. Deals can snag you that sweet chrome you been eyeballing, or leave you dangling by your thumbs over a vat of acid. Gotta have a nose for the angles, a sixth sense for the double-cross. So maybe, just maybe, a good deal is the key. Not some greasy pawn shop swindle, but a pact with the hungry ghosts of possibility. You bargain, sweat dripping, for a sliver of hope, a chance to wriggle free from the meat grinder. Two good deals, that’s what I say. One to ignite the fire, the other to fuel the escape. Now, light a cigarette, take a long drag, and let the good ideas flow, baby. Let them flow until your skull cracks and the future bleeds out.