“A bath and a tenderloin steak. Those are the high points of a man's life.”
— Curt Siodmac
Let us be honest, won't you? Things are getting pretty fucking weird out there folks. Robots in the streets and lying dogs in heat, Jim Morrison and Ray Kurzweil wrestle in the ethos of cultural consciousness as the beast awakens. Soon will come the A.I. phone calls from your dead Grandmother, offering secret family recipes and asking for a million dollars an hour to spend the day together - Just One Last Time...
So strap on your Cardoid C3 Bullshit-Detector and get ready to head up into the rough country, where the mechanical legs and treads still struggle to reach. Keep low under the canopy for fear of the propellered beasts, which can prick you with a single dart and send you back to the recycler. High above the desert of the mind, where the last great thinkers were quickly snatched up, we find a cache of weapons and supplies. The stories told around campfires, again the only source of human life.
Paint the camouflage on the skin.
Sew up the tent flaps.
Rub home-made balm on the aches and pains of endless sore muscles and never-calm temples.
Have the lines been set?
Has the electricity been swept away?
Are the sentries kept happy?
Tomorrow we run from the town of our birth, where all minds are melding into one.
No-one will be ready.
Or Just listen to the podcast and like, chill, or whatever. Either way.
