
Our world is full of copiers and repeaters, all highly rewarded with money and glory. It is better to interpret than to compose; it is better to have an opinion on a decision that has already been made than to make one’s own. The modern illness is the engulfing of the new in the duplicata, the engulfing of intelligence in the pleasure of the homogeneous. Real production is undoubtedly rare, for it attracts parasites that immediately make it something common and banal. Real production is unexpected and improbable; it overflows with information and is always immediately parasited.
–Michel Serres, The Parasite
Some cuts of and at the managerial class, you know, da people what be runnin’ tings. All eager to give us advice, straight from their narcissistic pusses, having read or at least skimmed through a few books by Peter Drucker. They know the buzz words and they’re buzzing with them.
A special bonus track “Nexus Seven Take-Out” is part of a purely musical thing I’m doing–actually an experimental snippet featuring naturally and artificially shredding guitar and a drum backing in 7/8 time. Fortunately it’s only about a minute in length, so your suffering may not be all that protracted.
May your Friday be bereft of conflict and agenda happy membots and superlifers. Namaste.

Exodus 21:32
If the bull gores a male or female slave, the owner must pay thirty shekels of silver to the master of the slave, and the bull must be stoned.


61 minutes for number 60. This isn’t the “shut up and play your guitar” edition, but that’s forthcoming….
Oh the clips they been piling up a bit and I been growing lazier and lazier ’bout posting them, at least to the blog. But here they is, to get you through the pre-hump day blues (or compound them):
Good Anti-Psychotic
The Real Cleavage
All the Same
Physical Movements
How long ya in for, doc?
Okay, there’s the buffet; now don’t waste any bytes, or there will be a surcharge.
And perhaps the “Todd of Cosmic Rationalization”?

Speaking of cutting, norelpref has taken upon himself the unenviable and laborious task of cutting up “the good book.” Both KJV and NIV will be taken to task. And the whole enchilada, with all it’s cheese, blood and gore and absurd promises and fear mongering will be cut up. The finished products should be interesting.
Ron Ferple applies to OSFI (One Step From Indigent) Outsourcing to get an IT position. Ted Sterno conducts the inquisition.

All is lawful. It’s a free-for-all. Impunity is the new culpability.
“oh black water keep on rolling, Mississippi moon won’t you keep on shining on me….”
–The Doobie Brothers
One image the US has never wanted to project is that of being a fascist government. We can see in history “obvious” dictators like Hitler and Mussolini, or Pol Pot or Suharto etc., and it’s as if they held their fascism up front, with little pretension of espousing “liberty” or fighting for “freedom.” The US on the other hand has always taken a different tactic: that of “outsourcing” all the dirty work, so as to appear somewhat “above” such chicanery and thus able to sustain the facade of “the good guys,” apple pie and chevrolet and of course that sport only slightly less boring than golf, baseball.
I feel so proud to live in a nation run by chicken hawks who hire out their malevolence. And the beat goes on. Just ask residents in San Diego, or, if you can speak Arabic, any one in Iraq. Yep. It’s all a big shit sandwich and we all gotta take a bite. And no, Ann Margaret’s not coming.
But take heart. The United States of Entertainment won’t let you down; there’s always a healthy supply of diversions, distractions, amusements. Surely the terrorists won’t target Adam Sandler, Michael Myers or the CW channel, whatever the hell that is. You’ll be able to gaze at some insipid sitcom while your doors are knocked in and you’re hauled off to some interrogation room somewhere you’ll never be able to track because of the black hood they put over your head.
Today’s fascists aren’t your Daddy’s fascists: no, now they gettin’ PAID.
Whether you’re tenured at a prominent University or a cardboard condo (and who is to say which is actually more prestigious in reality).
Clearly we ain’t much past the stone age in terms of ideological fetishes. Man, in my day we just played stickball, or smear the queer, or three flies up. And we tried skipping stones at the lake, or at the beach. How times have changed, and yet remained intractably the same.