As he read The Peripheral by Gibson

 

his deft handling of the Future
yanking a stub out of the Past and the interface with it  

                                                                                                 speculative scifi

he recognised that in the Future people had to pay for their privacy  if they wanted any

Anonymity  was being a cash cow

Living  was compliance with the dictates of the sketchy society                                                

            and being available to any and all who wanted access to you

even advertisements unfurled on the streets  in their windows  inside the shoppes

were loaded up with your personal preference to game you

                                                                                                    and like salesmen

who put their size 14 shoe in your doorway

you couldnt stomp their foot  even if you wanted to

everyone and everything had access to you at home and in the public sphere

Solicitation

                  was the belligerent elephant in the room or bull in the china shoppe of your lap

he supposed  after all  it wasnt really speculative scifi  

not with anonymity suspect these days

Privacy

              the Lamb slaughtered on the trumped up Altar of September 11 and beyond

by the Project for the New American Century(PNAC)*

whose position papers he read in ’97

whose major tenants entered the White House with the Younger  and Clueless

it all coldly reminded him  --  very naturally  --  of Mein Kampf

Then  all anyone had to do was read its vileness to recognise what Hitler would do if he came to power

his social intentions despicably apparent

Mein Kampf was as non-speculative a text as ever written

he recognised that as a boy

bearing only a boys intellect and experience

Why

         he couldnt remember now

he did remember asking his parents if they had read it then

they hadnt

when he asked why they hadnt

they shrugged

probably the same shrugging that continues unabated to-day

1737,  Wednesday,  22  4. 15

*Sen. Rubio’s presidential gambit is named the New American Century

http://www.newsweek.com/marco-rubio-promises-new-american-century-launch-presidential-bid-322148               

World Famous Fish Tacos

quite a tout  up in lights

Spencer Mackenzies World Famous Fish Taco

he imagined the words emblazoned at night in pulsating colored neon

  

what colours  he couldnt imagine                                                                                                        

No

      his imagination skillfully escaped  coloured fish tacos                                                                                             

he hadnt even hear of the Competition

it had to be fierce

though  to be fair  he wasnt the kind to have his finger on the carotid arterys pulse of popular culture

  

on occasion on-line  he dropped in to see who qualified as Americas Top Celebrities

most recently  he couldnt resist  he viewed The Top 50 Celebrities

who might as well have been the top fifty celibates  for all he knew

and he didnt know many

thought hed fare an iota better than he did

he knew one

                      out of fifty

2%

once upon a time he took a required college placement test

though he wasnt going to college or junior college

                                                                                 he had school up to his eyeballs

and needed to breathe fresh blue air and crack smash this veneer he had thrown in front of his face for as long as hed been alive

My Kind of Town                                                                                                                      

Sinatra didnt live in it  did he

World Famous Fish Tacos

self described

there was no telling what his high school counselors were up to

he attended  only briefly  any mandatory scheduled session

typically at the beginning of every year of high school

and Senior Year  before the televised Military Draft proceedings

which draft young mens birthdays to determine who was to fill the Militarys quota

which  remarkably  was eerily reminiscent of a required reading for English Class of The Lottery

written in ’48

a short story by Shirley Jackson  first published in The New Yorker

so what was the Why

to him reading it in ’70  when his parents read it  and it was deemed legitimate for them

they were two separate Generations

he had appreciation for the Common Thread which sought to bind them  their Generations                                                        

but every Generation  realistically  was unto Themselves

rather  he saw it a ridiculous game of Leap Frog

the difference between what he was in the midst of  and The Lottery  was one died stoned in Service

you died In-Country

in Nam

numbed in Nam

he knew he wasnt going anywhere near that bullshit

walked too many miles delivering papers reading the horseshit politicians plied

if they wanted  they could line up and suck his cock

but no amount of Patriotic squeeze would have him enter that sleazy State of Affairs

and so it was his Senior Year

despite no intentions of attending Higher Education  or draft-dodging

that he submitted to their Test

he applied himself the level-best he could

very psychological

thereby  very subjective

then he had to return yet again to the counselors office for its Results

when the fill-in-the-bubble answer form was magically tabulated

what kind of machine was that?

and all in all

all it did was confirm what he already knew

Biology

Architecture

neck-in-neck

Mathematics   abstract   not reasoned like Geometry

Whatever you do

do not be seduced by the money or the ploy of Sales  his counselor said

Ive never seen anyone conclude such a test with a single-digit percentage

Not in all the years that Ive been a high school counselor

which in itself was a statement

she was silver-haired

coiffed by an undertaker

older than Christs dog

Take a good look young man

literally her eyeballs bulged with incredulity

3%

3%

your aptitude for Sales is a hellacious 3%

he smiled  

then immediately recognised she might misunderstand his smile

Actually

               that 3% is a matter of common sense

I couldnt be in Sales

Im not a liar

it was a curt ending to an abrupt meeting

Very well  she said 

Yup  he said  your test seems worth its salt

suddenly   all these years later 

he bested his single-digit 3% Best

justifying a 2% against his common sense

these offshoots  considerations  returned him 

begrudgingly  to Mackenzies World Famous Fish Tacos

no one  or any business  should be allowed to profess their exuberance talents 

self-aggrandizement  should be nixed

 

not The Worlds Best  not World-Renown

or Im sexy  Im hot

No   these are the terminologies left to the consumers  admirers

the others who legitimately accede  announce  or bestow

these self-aggrandizements are as bad as someone who refer to themselves in the third-person

when he heard those voices he wanted to indelicately shove an anal thermometer up their asses

they had to be feverish

couldnt be trusted to hold a thermometer under their tongues

a mouthful of broken glass slivers and mercury is something to save someone who is deluded

1313,  Thursday,  23 4. 15