1978

The end of postmoderism rang out with a death blow delivered by a man who loved cats more than homeless people. He was a 9/11 denialist. It all began in the nineteen sixties, specifically in the European continent. Henry Ford had blown his wad, people were taking drugs. Those are all the facts you need, I don't pay you to think, He's stood behind me isn't he?

Molten olympic cities. This savage hand, this waxy maw. The phase change between good and better.

The scientist lowered her hair and turned into a beautiful woman. "Ever wonder why a baby's brain is so neuroplastic?" she said before a moving into the ulterior motorcade. An assassination visible in the future through a computer with no horse power. Human League played on the radio for a minute due to entanglement, the great mystery of the great time. The great time being the one better than the time before but not as good as the time after of course. Glans splattered inside the flesh walls sending spermatozoa with scrumpled up heads into the dying orbit of the human egg. "This is a metaphor." he guessed, holding pieces of cold metal in each hand as phallic substitutes. Light shining on it created magnetic fields.

Playing games with no rules or goals, whilst washing a big pair of soapy buttocks, comprendez?