Defenestration of Prague 1618

The Body Without Organs

This weekend we celebrate the dependence of a nation. No mistake in the first sentence, as independence has been placed in custody. Like any mythology of yore, the abrogation of civil liberty that is upon this time is no cause for such celebration.

We have no windows with which to throw the perpetrators of such dependence out of. Those windows are caged over with the iron bars of security. We accept the handouts like cowering sheep, pleading to be ruled. Like infants at a teat engorged on suckage. We are driven to the rhizome potato vis a vis D&G. A formless quackery preoccupied with our pussies and pimples, surface topographies; OR decapitated, drawn and quartered, left wriggling in an ovoid schizophrenia.

The Shadows Pall Casts a Faceless Formlessness Upon Us. The New World of Joy.

Oh Fowler, I do send hope for tomorrow, perhaps the only dope you will have to soothe these anxious angry moments as you have rejected the dopamine pump.

Ours is a time of celebration! Rejoice sisters and brothers! There is good news. The burden of your sentience is lifted from your shoulders. Titillation and tantalizing desires await your infinity.

My mom is making pierogies.

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  1. The weekend celebration of our ancestors defiance of ‘ordained’ rule I believe is often associated with our having a rebellious nature, but in hindsight, (“hindsight” being a stretch, I obviously not was there, nor do I have the version unedited by historical bias AKA press who delight in any bad drama that sell advertisements) but ultimately I think we driven then as we were now. Perhaps with a bit more by honor than by convenience, BUT that could be glossing the turd as well. Those who took the most risks knew they were dead if we lost, and those who supported them were just cheap bastards tired of tariffs, and to the rest at the bottom rung, shooting enthusiastically from the trees and guys in red standing in rows, it all went back to the same shit after a dozen years passed anyway… with a newfangled post office. But fireworks, right? Mmmmmm… cathartic to trigger, but super fucking annoying when you own a dog. Also, war. Delicious middle and lower class filled battles that bolster a hierarchy and encourage manufacturing and infrastructure consolidation all while thinning the disruptive portion of the population. Hives.

    My mom is five hours away so we made Brushetta because I’m swimming in Basil and the ingredients are cheap.

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