He wakes up. There is more bombing. Is it legal? No one seems to care. He is offered a new phone. It looks like it’s from the future. He writes words and words and words. He watches more Elementary. He watches even more Elementary. He eats good food. He enjoys good company. He plays Tiny Death Star. He downloads Memrise language learning and promises himself that this time he will become fluent. He gets on the bus but his pass doesn’t work. The driver is kind and lets him sit. He eats meat. He eats fruit. He drinks five coffees. He watches Obama talk at the UN. The Primeminister of Britain says that the Queen purred down the phone to him. Is the new Queen of England Eartha Kitt? He hopes that the new Queen of England is Earth Kitt. Everything is wonderful and everything is hopeless. There is no script. There is no prompt. There is in a dark cave somewhere hope barely alive but struggling towards the light. He goes to sleep.
He wakes up. He watches Brian Williams rubs shafts with Matt Lauer. They spar. They spar verbally. There is tension and shark smiling. He wonders if Isis is just the ASL ice bucket challenge gone horribly wrong. Nominations for Saladin, Ishmael and Frank-n-Furter. George W Bush and Bill Clinton are now best friends. He is sick in his mouth. Power accretes power. An NFP football player is suspended when a video appears of him punching his fiancee. Even though they knew he did it he only got two game suspension because they hadn’t seen it. A reflection of what is important. Money, profit, optics. The optics are wrong. No matter the ethics no matter the morality. At least Mel Brooks is still alive. They didn’t see it. So it doesn’t exist. He didn’t see the moon landings so they can’t be real. He didn’t see his own birth so he didn’t believe it. He didn’t see the bus arrive so he doesn’t believe that it got here. He didn’t see the formation of the continents so he does not believe that they exist. He cannot see oxygen so he is not sure that he is breathing it. He has never seen the earth from space so he doesn’t believe the world is a sphere zipping through space. He watches food commercials he watches car commercials. All using fear and doubt. Be afraid America. Be afraid. Stop thinking America don’t worry that your heroes are weak tired hypocrits. Liars and cheaters and brutish billionaires. Better than Hippo Crits. River creatures reviewing popular culture. Maybe not better than Hippo Crits. He watches Simon Critchley and Cornell West talking. They are talking about religion and violence. He listens to John Pilger. He listens to Noam Chomsky. It is one of those kinds of days. Richard Branson is an odd looking man. Sometimes it’s okay to give up your dreams. You won’t die. The Queen of the United kingdom is worried about Scotland. The economist Paul Krugman is worried about Scotland. This maybe the only time they will be worried about the same thing. He thinks more about an idea he has. He thinks that it is a good idea and the he thinks it’s a bad idea. He is undecided. Angry atheists make him sad. Happy Christians make him cringe. He listens to Cspan. It is both uplifting and depressing. Imaginary People think Obama is a Child Eating Muslim Jewish Atheist Christian Kenyan Communist Socialist. These people have access to the same information as everyone else and also the right to vote. The anniversary of 911 is approaching. The day that Pinochet stole Chile and also the day that planes hit the twin towers in New York and today is Zeinab Badawi interogating John Mccain by the lake that Amidala and Anakin Skywalker fell in love. Today is Scotland divorcing itself from Britain as Britain first acts like a violent lover bullying Scotland to stay with threats and violence and then begging Scotland to stay with gifts and bouquets of power it all looks very embarassing and no one has really planned for the split. Then he eats some rice it is a lot of rice and it has vegetables with it and also tomato sauce and he finds a bag of almonds and he books a flight to London and London terrifies him already he hears the pulsing wet beat of it’s corrupt blackened heart in his ears as he feels himself being sucked back into the pit the comforting embrace of the oily pit. Then he plays Tiny Death Star. It is an awful game that has no other point than to teach children that the most soulless parts of capitalism are compelling and entertaining taught through the lens of the Star Wars universe. He is hopelessly addicted to it and then he watches America’s Got Talent and the sound disappears for the last act so only atmospheric cheering can be heard. It is like watching television in a dream and then he cuddles and then he goes to sleep.