# friday though it could be saturday this ambient internets station we're listening to is time dilating our holo-tv senses waiting for the spork been waiting long time for the punchline the living new flesh meat but this life we're still attempting to live doesn't seem to be that kind of notstory so when we foolishly ask biopolyverse out loud what happens next impossibly distant stars appear like they feel sorry for us but they couldn't spend any more time explaining anything about everything to a tin plate brained sociomedia student maybe it's not about explanation closure or other forms of nice safe traditional western atomistic reductionist type rationalization the fact of our mere shining existence impossibly more than enough for those who can see we've painted up our face for midnight data rambling online a badass moving hallucination not unlike those seen on old posters of hippies in ancient pre deconstruction san franciso once illustrated in ruined library pages yellow and faded in coming small hours we stand silent in whispering information jungles by a fallen tree of bright green data cubes elvischrist help our opposite numbers unless they have at least half a forward alpha research team along with them for decent data backup // republic of bob