If we could explain it logically, we wouldn’t have to make up stories about it. It doesn’t matter what it is. Not anymore. It only matters that it extracts strong feelings, that those feelings become carriers of attention, and that attention ultimately leads people to spend money adapting to whatever they’ve been made to feel. It’s the new economy, stupid. Feel strongly. Identify strongly. Don’t be discerning. Just keep telling marketers exactly how to get your attention and give them a chance to open your wallet. Won’t buy what they’re selling? There’s an alternative to that. Enough stress leads to addictive behaviors. They sell things for those. Health declining? Well, yes. We have all sorts of things to sell you for that too, our little economy carriers. Our little sheep in the capitalist pen all over the world. Mwah ha ha… The economy! It is gloriously impossible to stop! Even trying to stop it now makes it grow.

It wasn’t the cake. It was how the cake was being baked, reproduced, packaged, and used to sell Big Boss Man and all his systems. Would people stop buying the cake flags, wearing the cake medallions, hanging tiny cakes from their rearview mirrors, or putting CAKE SAVES! stickers on their cars? No. Because by then the system was self-reinforcing. Cake had its own economy, its own signals, its own rewards, and its own protections. So the people allergic to fake cake had to learn how to live in a world saturated with it. And that is where we find Twila: her sensibilities battered, her integrity tested, living in a system built around cake, surrounded by cake platters, while quietly learning to bake something real for herself.

🤡Insane in the membrane. Insane in the brain. One two one two three you can’t out attention seek me! I’m the clown sucking up your oxygen! I don’t give a fuck about your organs! Insane in the membrane. Their insane in the brain! 🎶

Words like love mean what they mean to the person who says them. They do not necessarily mean the same thing to the person receiving them.
We live as though words themselves create agreement.
They do
not.

There is a lot we all know. Some of it we wish we didn’t.

Common sense. Common behavior.

Things we accept the way we accept old colloquial sayings—as simply the way things are.

Even when they shouldn’t be. Even when they land in our nervous system as danger.

From the space between waking and dream comes communication from deep behind the weary eyes of a creative. I see you.

You were here.

XOXO

New civilizations need new commandments—unless you’re marketing supplies to an older market with older commandments. Then you need multiple sets of commandments for your separately maintained identity groups. Preferably segmented by demographic, reinforced with outrage levels and purchasing history. They don’t need your attention. They just need how you identify and your habits. PICK YOUR SYMBOLS PLEASE!

She had always thought books were her friends. But in an institute of glass and mirrors, she learned something else: everyone wanted to be seen. No one wanted anything written down. Everyone wanted reflection, but no one wanted to be accurately reflected. Everyone wanted transparency, until something became clear.

Humans have their limits and standards. The Universe and God do not. Chaos is part of the ineffable plan and perfectly arranged, even in kitten form.

There was a lot going on earth that day. Somehow, no one really knew about it or about Martin.

You can come and go as you please. You have choices. Choices are freedom.

It’s just so hard to not fit in.

It’s all cheese!

No priest, rabbi, or ducks involved in the construction of this shortie.

Oh for conchs sake! What a bunch of conchs! Go get conched! Well conch me. Yesterdays fish from the fish tanks.

The Great and Splendorous Brain: the most undervalued and misunderstood organ of the body..

“Cake is sweet, sweeter than me, and the ants are coming, oh the ant days are coming.”
Lyrics from Little Lady Recordings
#macncheesebytheoceans

Quiet in the courtroom! Judge Angel Judy is on the case!