What's on your Brain.

Objectivity affects what force, before Subjectivity is manifest?

Mama, Don’t Let your Babies Grow up to Be

This is what happened to the ones who spent morning, noon, and night, ends of their appendages wrapped around plastic hand-grips, thumbing buttons with blistery, sweet and sour-patch encrusted, smelling of artificial, processed-cheese puffs. the Box 360 superstars, long since they dragged themselves on the coat-tails of Prime Optimus in the now shadowey corners, unlike out of evolution, necessarily not by choice but by aged inability to maintain any true common ground– necessarily because, cynically, they pushed away now the only thing left to do for them is to celebrate pain, unacceptance, insecurity and fear masqueraded as dominance and violence, and which surely must be an indication, an early warning as it were, that we will some day suffer unto them– perhaps not so obvious a dissimilarity in our so near, yet so veritably separate techno-cultures, unsure whether to be ashamed without recognizing a name, or something to wear as a badge– or at least as an adhesive tag which reads Hello. My Name is ______. Can we be friends? .