American Chicken Shit Corn Smut

Corn Smut...now there is a nuanced and serendipitously generated piece of American reality. The above picture came from a newfangled hybrid corn that happens to be purple, and sold at Lowes, that I grew a foot away from the roost that holds fifteen chicken asses...that's in my permaculture trailer park haven...next to the trailer park hugelmeadow that I hockity pockity wocked into existence...to hear my wife tell it. So the corn smut, that our government apparently spent "time and money trying to eradicate," that the Mexican culture has embraced due to edibility, dubbed huitlacoche,which means something along the lines of "sleeping Raven's excrement" (by my reading of wiki's entry on the topic). How perfect is that for a symbol to attach to the idea that America is a terminal, end stage, cancerous growth on homo sapien culture? The melting pot of culture brewed into a homogenous retardation of all that is good about our species. Corn smut...it's a corn tumor that enters the ovary of the plant and becomes the seed kernel itself, it's a fungus that sends out conjugation tubes to form hypha which parasitize the corn flesh. The corn kernel becomes corn smut.

I know that this corn smut is ripe with symbolism about what has happened to our culture. Our anti-culture as I like to call it. Interestingly enough, today I read about the Roma (gypsy) culture while reading Orlov's latest on the five stages of collapse. They live on the margins of any society, parasitizing the Gadjo (non-gypsy) culture, and they represent the best human cultural adaptation to the future we are rapidly approaching. According to Dmitry Orlov, they stand the best chance of surviving the collapsed end of this cancerous, Golden Rule smut ramification of, industrially consumptive, fossil fuel powered, cultural retardation. That is to say that the gypsy way will most probably survive the end of industrial civilization.

There is much about Roma culture that I find to be extremely fascinating. They are petty thieves who persist on tricking polite society into unwittingly supplying them with what they need to thrive. I guess they are similar to corn smut. They are also similar to the mythical trickster fox whom just takes what he needs from you via his trickery and then disappears. They hide in plain sight by hiding who they are, and they are generally considered a nuisance to those whom control the digibit levers. Sometimes it's easier to simply deal with them by banishment, and some governments have done so. I want to join the Roma culture, but seeing as how the only way to do so is to marry in, and I'm already married, there will be no gypsy made of me. However, my wife's avatar is "Gypsy Mama," (over at the Doomstead Diner) and she is so gypsy like that I'm convinced she is in fact unknowingly gypsy by family lineage.

Let me give you an example of what I mean by employing my favorite medium of literary conveyance called anecdote. Today my wife rounded up a bunch of consumer shit that we've managed to come into possession of. We've come to possess all of this, mostly plastic, Chinese made, stupid shit via the usual American avenues of mindless consumption. That mindless consumption happens without our participation, and ends up being given to us due to socially mandated empty rituals like baby showers, Christmas, birthdays, and whatever other reason us Americans have to go practice consumer therapy in the box store refrigerator habitats that house humans too fat to walk. They ride motorized consumer scooters while shopping for their fat inducing coma ridden soma high petroleum corn sugared treats. So now that I'm done explaining the nature of the stupid plastic shit that my wife rounded up today, let me proceed with the promise of anecdote in the next paragraph.

Today my wife returned consumer items to retail stores for store credit. Things like the safety knobs we've had on our gas oven that keep our toddler from burning the house down. She tried to return a dumb ass talking potty (that my son pinched a loaf in a time or two...and maybe pissed in a few hundred times...we didn't like the song the toilet sang was why we returned it...in perfect Gadjoesqueness)  but the new brainwashed employee refused refund, siting sanitation, (which I can't argue with...but Wendy figures she'll take it back again next time and hopefully the next proletariat dumb ass will acquiesce). I mean, let's forget about the damage that said talking toilet could have potentially done to my son had I not removed the batteries within days of the toilet being brought to defecating digital madness. There it is again...defecation...sleeping Raven excrement...tied to American anti-culture. What type of culture thinks that talking toilets that congratulate your water head toddler on his stinkin' MacDonald's fried shit is a good idea? Ethical even? WTF? We need plastic potties manufactured on the backs of starving third world children? And my wife and I are supposed to feel badly about returning this stupid plastic shit for organic baby formula to feed our exceptional newborn?

See, I do feel badly about it when I'm with my wife as she runs these legal scams (there are many corporate store policies that include no question asked, no receipt, returns). The reasons I feel badly about the returns are due to unconscious scripts that the anti-culture I've been brought up in have programmed into me. Logically I get why I should not feel guilty about it, but I still do. I especially hate the looks and sounds that are directed at you from the consumer zombies who are stuck in line behind you. My wife on the other hand just feeds her baby while in line, and says things to those behind her like "sometimes you just gotta feed your baby while you return shit." She's unaffected by the social program that says she's being a dishonest citizen of this FSoA (failed states of America). Today, she brought that senseless planned obsolescence back to the corporate monster that's destroyed anything resembling a descent American culture, and she bought about three months of formula with it (don't worry, she's breast feeding, but Tribann requires a LOT of calories to grow his physical form, and if he doesn't get them than stress erupts all over the place via forms like torturous eczema on my wife's hands).

This is one of the ways we use to generate money, or the digibit credits to acquire what our family needs. We subsist on the margins of society, in a gray area, living comfortably by taking advantage of the stupid and mindless cultural taboos embraced by our consumer cult of progress anti-culture. Government grants for college, medicaid for healthcare (except for me that is...Uncle Sam will excise a chunk of my vas deferens so I can't procreate any longer...but if I got a toothache, or a broke arm, I can go fuck myself), and a life paid for by the shadow of American waste. I'm a professional student these days. Learning how to work for the Ministry of Health. Well...learning is probably the wrong word...more like learning how to take tests (which Orlov points out in his latest book). I can take a test like a motherfucker...and on short notice.

Our just in time bull shit is about to be out of time. The writing is all over the god damned wall. Just look around outside. Look at the people you know who are a pussy hair away from economic non-person status, bankruptcy, and Limarita fueled, fermented, piss smelling destitution. I've got kids trying to thrive in this shit! Filled with hundreds of cancer causing chemicals en utero, usurping our women's ovaries to become tumor like growth on the maize that supplies the feedstock for something like 70% of our human bodies on the molecular level...according to a stat I read in one of Michael Pollan's books. We are the corn people. Warning, Big Lebowski Turrets dead ahead.

"I've got some corn, I've got some corn so big I can't even sit down...but you know me...I can't complain."

"Fuckin' A, I've got some corn smut man."

Indeed dude, I've got some corn smut. It grew on a newfangled, probably genetically modified, Ruby Queen corn stalk just next to 15 shittin' chicken asses in my back yard. Apparently corn smut has similar characteristics to ergot, which is associated with LSD. I don't know...I love and cherish Mexican food and Mexican culture. Mexicans eat corn smut, or huitlacoche, and they do that because it's edible, and the world doesn't care about our guts. It's practical, common sense even, and I get it. 

So now that I'm done pitching my two cents into the TEOTWAWKI blogosphere I'm off to eat some huitlacoche...here's to it's LSD like qualities. And here's to a new breed of post-petroleum people's who will most probably be gypsy like, and may be found hiding in a mythical place called the Foxstead...one day. Or maybe I'll take my wife and sons and join my uncles in SoCal, where I was hatched; who have plans to retire from the American hologram and take part in the growing sea gypsy movement. Apparently the apple don't fall far from the genetic tree. I've got a sail boat going uncle, and I may buy a sail boat with my Ministry of Health money, and join him. Polar bears are floating on chunks of ice in the arctic, and sea level is rising. What better way to adapt than a gypsy sea culture subsisting on gorilla grown food? If I end up buying a sail boat...Ima name it the Gypsy Corn Smut.  I think the future is going to be something resembling Waterworld...only it's fruition is maybe 50 to 100 years from now.  

 

The End of BAU

For the last six years I've made it my business to understand the plethora of fibers that compose our modern day reality. We live in a society that requires the rest of the world to function. Our modern industrial civilization has engulfed the entire globe. Our oceans are acidifying as we busy ourselves with destroying the last bastion of oxygen production, the great lungs of Gaia, the Amazon. Our species is very sick, but just like a patient with pancreatitis, hepatitis C, and cirrhosis we can't put the bottle down. No matter how much pain it will cause us, we can't bring ourselves to stop drinking. The fun has long since past, and now we just do it out of desperation; we do it because we don't want to feel the immense pain that we have and are creating. We also continue drinking because we are scared of the future. The bottle we are drinking from does not contain liquor. It contains a fermented liquid that the Earth concocted using lots of algae, high pressure, and millions of years. Like liquor, this liquid had the ability to produce a great delusion for the human race. It's this delusion that is responsible for our reckless destruction. It's this same delusion that has us destroying the only home we know of in this infinite expanse of space. We are hopelessly addicted to this magical substance that might as well be the Earth's blood. Like vampires we stick our fangs in the Earth and suck it's blood to quench our addiction. We don't care who pays the price so long as we can get another fix.

Our children are the ones who will pay the price. They are suffering from our debt in this toxic environment that their physical brains must mature in. Trying to figure out why this has happened is about like trying to figure out why a drunk continues to drink. His addiction has him homeless, laid out in the freezing cold street in his urine soaked stitchless rags, and yet he doesn't care because that's what his dark substance provides him. He's in unfathomable pain, and yet he can't feel any of it. Not until there is no liquor left will he finally be forced to face the reality. He wakes up in the cold street, piss soaked pants, peels himself off of the sidewalk, and begins begging for more. Death would be much better for him. This is our species. Drunk on oil. Until that oil is gone the delusion will remain. Business as usual. We don't even care that our children will pay the price for our recklessness.

Maybe the irreversible damage is done and there is no point trying to repair our diseased organs. In which case, I suppose we might as well just stay drunk until we're dead. Maybe it's just going to be too painful to bear the sober burden waiting for us. Could it be that this pain has grown so monstrously large that changing is impossible? Is there a Rubicon that our collective pain has crossed? If this is true than we might as well get on with it and put ourselves out of this misery. Save our children from the misery that we are ensuring for them with every action of every miserable day. If we are to just continue this madness than I would prefer we put an end to it. Problem is, I'm a father, so I don't have that luxury. I've got to find a way to conjure up some hope for my sons to believe in. Yet every place I turn to find just a miniscule fiber of hope I'm met by the blindness that is a pervasive aspect of the holograms programming. It's hard wired into the falsity that the hologram projects. How our species got to this point can only make sense metaphysically. It can only make sense in the quadrants of existence that the Matrix cannot detect. We have collectively lost touch with spirit. In our quest to conquer knowledge and nature we have lost our connection to the natural processes that are created by that spirit in the first place. We need nature to exist, but nature does not need us.

Those who control the work at the power plant that burns the Earth's blood to perpetuate the Matrix's hologram programing are not to be trusted, nor is their message. They are the catalysts that keep this drunken delusion disseminated to each and every human mind. Their intoxicating message must be ignored. Unfortunately everything about BAU is designed to continue perpetuating BAU as an endless positive feedback loop. Communication technology has become the great controlling opus of BAU. Cell phones, the internet, and television are how this great evil ensures it's continual existence within the human psyche. These things ensure that the message is being projected and received. If there is to be any hope, it will be found in learning to use these things to reverse this destructive process. The solution to our problems is staggeringly easy to understand. However it won't be easy to employ. I'm positive that it's going to be painful. We just have to accept that fact and move forward regardless.

The solution to all of our problems is to begin ignoring BAU, but in order to successfully do that, we must extract ourselves from its clutches. Ultimately, BAU is kept going by the electricity that is created by burning hydrocarbons. The electrical infrastructure is the Matrix's Achilles tendon. Electricity is magic, and by itself is neither good nor bad, but the system uses it to keep us all enslaved. This magical force used to be the product of nature alone by way of what might as well be called lightning, and our species seems to be proving that it should have stayed that way. We proved incapable of wielding that one...fire on the other hand. It's starting to look like the Amish were at least correct about the nature of electricity. I want to make it clear here that I'm NOT saying electricity should not be used, or that it's even evil by its own nature. What I am saying is that it should not be used if it's coming from the Matrix's infrastructure. This one step would ensure our extraction. Simply put, in order to fight the Matrix, we must remove ourselves from its physical clutches. Our species flourished long before the grid, and it will flourish after it. But if we do not begin taking the necessary steps towards extraction than our species will lose the chance to flourish.

Our spiritual amnesia must also be addressed. Unplugging from the grid would allow each one of us to once again remember sacred and natural divinity. The white noise emitted from the hologram blocks our spiritual receptors. The incessant drivel that is audible beyond the white noise is about nothing of consequence and is projected to every mind plugged into the grid. The last time I heard about that drivel, I was enjoying traditional Mexican cuisine, and it was intrusively going on and on about some poo poo cruise that the entire world was watching...and for some reason it was considered normal that those poor souls had to continue eating onion sandwiches and shitting on the deck. Some vacation...at least they got to shit in the great outdoors...albeit on the deck of a cruise ship. I bet those processed loaf bread and onion sandwichs were some god awful smelling turds . Come on people, my chickens have more dignity and sense than that and they shit all over the damn place 24/7.  

I was talking about spirit. That noise from the machine...it's function is to ensure we don't get the chance to contemplate spirit. Our minds and bodies are being filled with corporate programing when they need to be filled with sacredness. Yet they are so full with the former that there is no room left for the later. The cup has runneth over with the hologram. It's far beyond the mental realm. We are controlled on a physical level as well. Man made chemicals are ubiquitous in the very cells that compose our bodies. You need electron microscopes to even study that level of control. Some of these chemicals are prescribed to us by the Ministry of Health, others we willingly ingest, but the majority we have absolutely no control over. Our bodies absorb those toxins autonomically. Between the Matrix's mental control, and the physical chemicals pervading our biosphere, we are left almost hopeless. This is why we must begin extracting ourselves from these horrible mechanisms of control and destruction.

I understand that advocating for the avoidance of hydrocarbon fueled electricity seems excessive. That's because it is. It's excessive, purist, anal, unrealistic, idealistic, and probably impossible, and yet it's our only hope. Unless the amount of petroleum we are capable of getting at is less than what will be needed to bring the Earth's biosphere to it's catastrophic environmental threshold of chaos. We can pray that this will be the case, but just hoping is not good enough. We must begin turning our backs on the way we have done things for the last 200 years. The only successful strategy we can have towards righting our wrongs is to begin ignoring the Matrix and it's delusional hologram. Protesting does not produce results. The machine simply does not care what we think. Its got it's own momentum now, and it views itself as unstoppable.

Fact, our way of life is going to destroy the biosphere to the point where it will no longer sustain human life. If we continue BAU that will be the outcome. That being the case, I don't think there is anything that is too extreme if it can reverse that outcome. If the solution is unrealistic should that matter? Should it stop those of us who have identified the problem from trying to correct it? I don't think the solution being unrealistic should matter to us. Maybe it is too late. Maybe there really is nothing that can be done at this point. Yet without hope there can be no point to existence. If we are just doomed to failure as a species than we might as well destroy ourselves and get it over with. I don't think that is the case. I want to believe that we can fix our biosphere so that it will once again become healthy for our children. 

There is a great spirit that has all of the answers. In Druidry we call it AWEN (pronounced Ahhh Ohhh Ennnn). Funny how that word sounds like AMEN isn't it? I wonder if that's just a coincidence?  We have lost touch with that source. Unless we learn to once again sensitize ourselves to the stone, we will destroy all current life on Earth. This is the message that needs to be heard right now. This is what we need to wake up to. Our job is to awaken that spirit in as many people as possible. The only way to accomplish that goal is going to be to use the Matrix and it's hologram against itself. Somehow we are going to have to find a way to channel all of that Energy that is being created by burning the Earth's blood into consciously destroying the Matrix. I don't know how to do that, but that's what needs to be done. The solution may reside in enough people realizing that a different way is not just necessary and possible, but that it is most importantly desirable.  I happen to believe that the 100th monkey is about to wake.  But he won't if you don't.  That's the point...isn't it.  It's easy...wake up...

Some Piedmont Hope from the land of the Fox.

 

Fiercely Alive

Every once in a while I take it upon myself to attempt a slightly more optimistic smattering of words. Due to my nature being predominately ruled by optimistic pessimism (which is really a misnomer seeing as how I'm actually more along the lines of a raging pessimist where just about all things human species are concerned), I tend to gravitate towards what could be considered a negative outlook on things. Now, it should be said in my defense, that things are pretty fucked up and therefore I'm actually just reporting on reality in a realism sort of way. In other words, it's not my fault that our species has decided to conduct ourselves like a bunch of drunk teenagers trying to find a hole to stick our pricks in on prom night whenever and wherever possible all the live long day. I think it's rather unfair to be considered a pessimist just because I make it a habit of calling a spade a spade and not some other gooey and ridiculous euphemism designed to woo the masses into believing whatever retarded garbage the American Hologram is selling for the day (that last sentence had to of broken some rules of grammer...I'm certain of it). However, all of reality generally sucking and therefore lending itself to pessimism aside, I do realize that attitude has a lot to do with how your life plays out in general. That is to say that if your attitude and overall disposition is shitty, than you shouldn't be surprised when things turn out shitty all of the time (this is where a very special herb can be appropriately used for medicinal purposes for psychological health...I find).

My wife just returned from a three day and two night getaway with two friends from college. She plans on blogging about it over at “thebutterchurn,” so I'll just be latching onto a few topics revolving around the disaster that was her weekend. She thought she was going to the mountains of NC, Boone to be precise, to stay in a cabin and commune with nature while in the company of good friends. What she was not banking on was how much people change as time marches on. What she got was a weekend of consumer hell whilst sleeping in a cabin on the edge of mountain suburbia with two friends that were afraid to go outside because they might get some nature on them...need I say more? One of her friends might as well have had an American flag stamped on her head with something like “only spews American Hologram garbage from mouth” tattooed somewhere that would be easily visible to all those not of the American Hologram persuasion. Apparently this girl thought that “American processed imitation cheese food” was cheese, and bought it (seriously, according to my wife this is what the packaging said). This same girl was afraid to drink organic whole milk (for curiously unknown reasons...I mean even she didn't know why) and couldn't understand why back yard chicken eggs are better for you than concentrated animal feeding operation (CAFO) eggs. To sum up her weekend it was spent mostly driving around suburbia hitting all of the shopping spots up, eating fast food, and, while at the beautiful cabin they watched “Friends” on the idiot screen. This same girl brought seasons 1 through 10 on dvd which was a good thing, for the friend, due to there being no cable in the cabin which was apparently a major source of contention for her. Needless to say my wife is now recuperating from a 200 dollar getaway to mountain suburbia hell.

I brought that short anecdote up because it helps illuminate the depth of retardedness that permeates all throughout the hologram. Dropping out of the Matrix can be very lonely, and the longer you stay out of it the harder it can be to find intelligence. Why is that? It can easily become a positive feedback loop as well. The more you can't find intelligence the more stupid shows up and the more you can't find intelligence...and on and on it goes. The hologram has been a fabulous success if consuming everything that can possibly be consumed is the goal. If you haven't seen Disney Pixar's“Wall e” yet, you should, as it takes all of this to it's logical conclusion with one caveat...we don't run out of fuel and are able to send a spaceship the size of a city into space. The basic premise of the movie is that we made too much garbage and Earth became to toxic to live on. Of course all of this garbage was generated by a multi-national corporation that apparently produced everything called “Buy n Large.” BnL sends thousands of people on a 5 year space cruise while robots are left behind on Earth to clean up the mess. That's where the little robot Walle comes in. 700 years later a reconnaissance robot named Eve is sent to earth from the ship to find proof of life. Walle falls in love with her and presents her with a seedling that kicks the journey off. The first half of the movie has no dialogue and is artistically phenomenal. I bring it up because the inhabitants of the ship, the Axiom, are all quite literally plugged in to the ship, not unlike the majority who are plugged into the hologram in reality. Quite literally my only issue with the movie is the idea that a robot can love, but allowing that, I'd say it's one of the best Pixar films I've seen.

Shit...I just realized that I'm on the fourth paragraph of a blog that is supposed to be optimistic and I've only talked about American Hologram ra-tard-edness and a dystopian movie...I think I need to sit down and talk with a professional about my level of pessimism. I would if I'm not certain that their conclusion would be a chemical lobotomy since that was what I was offered just before I exited the Matrix. So what does my wife's terrible getaway and Walle have to do with me being optimistic for once. Well, I'll tell you, it...um...to be honest it's just what's coming out of me while attempting optimism. I'm not very good at it. Let me try again. My wife learned how intellectually isolated one can become in the Wasteland and Walle is an amazing film about how the Earth became unfit for life. Shit...I need help.

All joking aside, being unplugged can open up possibilities that you can't imagine from inside the hologram. One thing I've learned recently is that you can't be afraid to live differently. Unplugging pretty much demands a counter culture leaning on your part. Most people do not understand what my wife and I are doing with this fledgling homestead. We have to be careful what we tell people so as not to have the government bureaucrats unleashed on our home for trying to live life naturally. That's one thing my wife, Wendy, learned from her plugged in friends this weekend; if you did not know, nature is a dangerous thing that must be conquered and avoided at all times. The last thing you want to do is get some nature on you. So when we tell people things like we're pregnant with no health insurance, plan on having the child at home, and aren't going to get he/she vaccinated, all while not being employed, well it can cause heads to explode. How irresponsible can you be.

In our defense, I'm self employed, and I can say that because I am receiving no governmental benefits. Just because I don't work for “the man” and punch a clock five days a week shouldn't mean that I'm “unemployed.” Receiving a check in the mail from uncle Sam would make me unemployed in my opinion. And since I receive no check...well I'm self employed. As an ironic aside, I recently received a 10,000 dollar American Express card in the mail. I stated that I was self employed, made 60,000 a year and had 100,000 to 200,000 dollars in assets. It took about five seconds for them to approve me. I've got over 20,000 dollars worth of credit and I have no job. Back on the topic at hand...the pregnancy. This is where the rubber meets the road for me where walkin' my talk is concerned. I'd be lying to say that I'm not very concerned about what it will mean to have a child at home away from the sterile, controlled, and surgical environment of the hospital. We had our first child in the hospital, but I was employed with health insurance at the time and we paid nothing (well except the 600 a month that was taken out of my check for health insurance while working for a for profit hospital corporation as a medic making 28,000 a year).

The hologram wants us to believe that we are being borderline criminally irresponsible by doing what we are doing. Here's the reality. We are going to have at bare minimum an experienced dula and possibly a midwife. I am professionally trained, and according to the state of SC and the National Registry of EMT's, I'm qualified to lead a delivery in the field (and have done so once or twice). If shit goes from bad to worse we are 10 miles from a major hospital which is about fifteen minutes from 911 to hospital bed. What about no insurance? My answer to that is fuck it...I went to war for this country. Granted I quit and got kicked out for “wrongful use of marijuana,” but I still indirectly dropped bombs on innocent nomadic people while splitting atoms in the engine room of a carrier. So what's going to happen if we need to go to the hospital? Well they'll send us a bill for one million dollars, and I'll send them a one dollar check once a month for the rest of my life and there won't be a damn thing they can do about it. I'll even send them a photocopy of my dick and balls along with the check every month. I won't even charge them for the picture. God forbid I lose my 22,000 dollars worth of credit cards and get labeled with “bad credit.”

Here's the deal. I refuse to back down from a complete burning passion for life. That is the courage it takes to lead outside of the matrix. You have to be able to tell the system to go fuck itself and live life on your own terms. Should I be afraid to live? Should I be afraid to reproduce and have an actual family? What is more human than making babies with a mate that you love and are dedicated to? What is more human than procreation? The way I see it is that if intelligent people don't breed than we'll get the idiocracy that we've got now. Idiots that are afraid to get the “nature” on them and think that “American processed imitation cheese food” is fit for human consumption and a bargain deal at that. My son just turned two last June 19^th. He made me a father on father's day of 2010. He will sit down and watch Walle, a movie with little to no dialogue, and be enthralled by it. He jumps up and down and asks me all kinds of questions that I can't answer due to the 2 year old to English language barrier that we got goin' on right now. He'll do that after spending hours outside with me, or his mama, playing in dirt and puddles and picking up sticks to use as swords (which he calls “ting,” in fact anything relatively straight he'll use as a ting so long as he can pick it up).

Ayden Zen McCarty

Let me sum up this rather long blog O mine. My optimism is my son, and the fetus that's not even resembling a human yet (she's about one month 3 weeks along). It's knowing that I'm doing my best to add some intelligence to this fucked up gene pool we've got on Earth. I'm not going to be afraid to live just because I refuse to plug in and play along with the hologram. If I ever had to plug back in to feed my family, I would, but I don't think that will ever be necessary. Living intentionally requires competency, skill, and wisdom. If you can keep your priorities informed by wisdom, and live intentionally out here in head out of assicusville, than there is no reason to think you can't find joy and equanimity. This is where I'm at and this is what I'm doing. I'm fiercely alive and refusing to back down from my birthright...our birthright. I'm going to have children, and I'm going to be responsible for each and every one of them. My wife and I are going to provide them with love and guidance. What else do children need? I hardly think we can do any worse than “American processed imitation cheese food.” We are going to ferment our genes into a fucking culture and there ain't a damn thing the hologram is going to do about it (pending they don't make me disappear for being contrary and free).