I sit here, writing, getting down with the fiction rising in my Neanderthal genome, drinking with a gay giraffe—yes, this is absolute truth and will be proven in the upcoming novelette by that title—when I received, this very sun-kissed morning, from my Angelic Editrix, the following text:
“Good morning, James, [name redacted to hold back death squads] in [nation redacted for concerns cited above] got his book banned for talking [name of avian DNA packet withheld due to concern cited and recited above]…”
“…you are a prophet. We never used the word in our book [Apocalisp]…”
Good girl!
Look, friends, these things are all branded labels that the government and associated systems of control issue, such as Third Sphere from Sol Warming and so on. We must be smarter than they and their slave machines. It is now obvious that what was once:
Dis Corolla Shid, caused by Asians to sell HEPA filters made with toy dog hair…
What became Cordova Virus, which could live on Corinthian leather seats for 17 days…
That mutated into Cordoba Syndrome while world renown newspeakepidemiologist, Games LaFond conducted a drunken boxing clinic with Blues Guitarist Yeti “Fuck You Behind Your Weak-ass Mask You Bitch-made Slave” Waters in Portland Drunkagain…
Has now mutated again, in the never-ending quest by a semi-live DNA packet to remain a viable political pigskin of oppression, into…
Gulag Kwaranteen!
You see, my skank-monitored brothers and also my disssadant sistas wondering how a fag can always be more of a bitch than she, we have to stay away from the branded thought commodities, because once the System of Control brands a concept it not only owns it, but owns everyone of us who speaks it.
Words have power.
Yeti Waters was right this time last week when he told me on the other end of this habit-trail for the meek, that to even use the crow-based word with its assigned number one short of the number of years already done to dishonor in this retched century, is a sign of weakness, an overture of submission to the almighty God of Things.
Why not just call it the Yellow Peril?
Tex
(Sax Rohmer was RIGHT!)
Saw a TV press conference in the train station in which Trump, addressing a pretty Chinese reporter, called the plague "the Chinese thing" and her face almost melted!
Your new hard back just came in this last weekend, 44pages in.
Thanks bro!
Goddamn Coachella birus ain't no joke man!