Earlier in the year I wrote a book. A Town on a lake. It’s about post industrial society and the decline of work. It’s the idea that leisure can save the middle class and the lack of evidence to show support that this business model is even rational. It’s about what we let the past do and the detachment of districts within a single county. It’s about the future recession and white flight. The book is for sale and people can buy it in the future. I sold less than a hundred copies. I don’t care. It’s a micro piece that bridges into more adventures of a dying young man. The narrative is much like this video. It’s a silent novel. It’s about children with fishing poles who never catch anything. Today. Bombs went off. I wasn’t there when this happened. Thankfully I’m in a different city. But This is my hometown. Some people take a day of rest. Nope. On Sundays, we blow up stuff. The place is war zone. Thousands of people used to work here. Not sure that land can even be used. This is America. This is the age of entertainment. This is dramatic. It’s all a big mess. I don’t know what else say. I’ve said it already. There are bricks and glass remains everywhere. The young generation is clueless. It’s strange. I post for historical reasons. There are many questions. I’ll let the journalism make up the fake story. I’ll sit back and give it the middle finger. Nobody talks about the human cost…ever.
In novel notes, My book took a mighty strange detour today when humans created artificial intelligence. They didn’t even realize they did so, because the machine committed suicide as soon as it became self aware….um…weird man… PEACE!