5cense 2 x ½ uv n a.I. ID forms a hole in the janky hairpin ½-in/½-out-door mosquito Sense/Net by the font/fireplace


31 Mar 2020>  Dear Inurnet, seams corona virus is starting to seep into our dreams, wich we haven't logged menny of this past month or 2 but maybe archiving them is making us remember, at least to scribble 'em down in the middle of the night. 2 noches ago we took a sharp turn down Σum alley + there was a little Fiat 500 dat had crashed, apparently a notorious hairpin turn where people always got in axidents + we couldn’t figger out why they din’t do nothing to make things less dangerous. We flipped the machina over + offered to help but the old Italian guy was embarrassed + ran off, even tho he was bleeding + injured. We found a ½-broken windshield but it wasn’t for his car, apparently there had bin another axident. We wint into a restraunt dat was partially open + the 2 European teenage girls came to us + introduced themselves + we shook hands + 1 of them held onto our mano + then we realized it was a stupid thing to do (cuz of COVID). We din’t want to offend them but excused ourself to use the bathroom + had to wait in a long Q + then when we got in there there was no sink, just a backed-up loo + the remnants of toilet paper were smeared w/ shit, nowhere to even wipe our hands.

Then last night there were little red bugs nibbling on our skin, waking us up. We saw all these little cricket like bright red bugs + a bunch of their red appendages, piled near the circular edge of a mosquito net we was sleeping under, like the bugs had all been trying to get in. We tried to adjust it to keep em out. Then we saw 2 dead black scorpions + was thinking if 2 got in there must be more. Obviously we was halving a hard time sleeping (in the dream).

1 April> Went w/ our bedder-½ to a meating she had + waited in the lobby of sum weird building/mall complex that was like it was ½-inside but ½-outside on the beach. Sum African-American guy was telling us that in Africa they always repeat your name 5 times, "like you’d be Derek Derek, man, Derek Derek Derek." Then we was just hanging out on this in-door beach + every 1 started singing sum sorta Jewish folk song + they all knew the words but we din’t so felt uncomfortable. We tried to get away but the waves was coming higher + trapping us into a dead end room/cave. We finally made it out, scrambling up a stoney beach w/ evenly displaced stones of certain colors + shapes that were all too perfect, like they was fake. A secretary came out to apologize dat our bedder-½ was still being detained, dat they still had to "settle the books." Sum guy next to us said "uh-oh, looks like your ol lady owes them money" + we said, no it ain't like dat, dat she was a sighingtist. There was sum sorta pachinko machine where people put coins in + they were all Q'ing up to drop quarters in. This 1 guy put a coin in + got mad when he lost + ripped it from the wall + threw it on the ground then walked away. We went to check it out + discovered it had broken open. We showed the guy the hole + he was tempted but din’t take any of the coins, nor did we, tho we egged him on, saying, "u may as well, they’re the thieves to begin with."  

2 April 2020, DC> We was w/ Kevin hunkered around a fountain/firepit at our dad's house dat, again, was ½-indoor/½-outdoor. We had 1 baseball mitt + 1 tennis ball to occupy our time, so we went up into a loft space + threw the mitt down to him. It landed in the water of the fountain, but we figgered it would be good for the leather to get wet. We noticed an open door + told our dad + he said it was a known issue, when u open 1 door below it maid the other 1 up above open. Kevin threw the tennis ball up + then it was like he turned into our bedder-½. Dad started playing around doing karate kicks + rough-housing, then he got sorta violent + kicked her knees in really hard + she buckled to the ground, so we ran down + started yelling at him. He said he was just playing around + we said it was intentional, that he assaulted her + to never touch her ever again or else. Our bedder-½ said she was leaving + we said we were both leaving + never coming back. 

Later on in the night we were getting new IDs that we both had to reschedule cuz we missed the appointment, like in the factory where they actually maid them. They was calling out names alphabetically + it was taking a while... our bedder-½ got hers (F) but they was still calling Gs + Hs so we was reading sumthing, spacing out. Next thing we know they said they was done for the day. We aksed our bedder-½ if they called White + she said yes + she was wondering why we didn’t respond + we was aksing why she din't tell us. So we go up to the guy + said we was White but he said sorry, it was too late, dat we'd halve to do it over again mañana. Then he said "hold on, I've got an idea" + radioed a message to aks the production supervisor. They talked a while on walkie-talkies then when he got off said "we’re gunna try, we've never done this so don't know if it will work."

We've been into sighence fiction lately (back in the waking ℝeel mundo now), maybe as an x-cape or maybe cuz this whole COVID crysis feels like sighence fiction (we saw Soderbergh's Contagion (2011) a few nights ago wich is eerily close to a present day documentary). We found this book Mutant by Henry Kuttner a few weeks ago + liked the cover so much figured we'd judge the insides accordionly despite the old adage.

Mutant + our self-isolated vu onto our X-section of L moondough

Mutant is a post-apocalyptic story (a collection of connected stories actually) about a race of "baldies" who—cuz of sum atomic blowup—mutate to become telepahtic + toetilly devoid of hair. Regular humuns are leery + fearful of these baldies + try to keep 'em oppressed. Mostly it's about what it must be like to be telepathic (not just w/utter humuns but animals), not nessysorrily the obvious advantages but the deeper implications, a more sympathetic view dat likens these hairless telepaths to a discriminated-against minority who strive to share their powers for the bedder good of humanity. Sumtimes he (or they... googling round now guess Kuttner often collaborated w/ his wife under the pseudonym Lewis Padgett, which Mutant is sometimes attributed to) experimented w/ typography to communecake telegraphic thought:

We also found Idoru by William Gibson in our boox + started to read it but then figgered we shd probly start w/ Neuromancer, wich we never bothered to read til now. Incredible book considering it was written in 1984, before Inurnet + before The Matrix (which toetilly ripped it off... Gibson even uses the term Matrix + Gibson also wrote Johnny Mnemonic (in 1981) + the adapted movie also stars Keanu Reeves). If Gibson din't invent cyber-punk, he certainly deserves credit for giving it that janky globe-trotting counter-culture flair... seams most sighence fiction + stuff about a.I. before then was quite antiseptic + cold + robotic. Cyber warfare w/ Russian hackers also figgers prominently as does a "Chinese virus" (albeit a computer 1) + the unification of the udderwise ½–a.I. entittys of Wintermute + Neuromancer (who by themselves lack a personality) seams akin to the union of Genesis P-Orridge (R.I.P) + Lady Jaye (there's even a Lady 3Jane (3rd clone of the originul Lady Jane) charactor in el liebro)... ∀ll way ahead of its time. Given all the identittys sumtimes it's hard to follow, to know what's virtual + ℝeel + @ times nebulus, butt in the end, Case (the protagonist) beecombs the Σum total of his work, wich is ℝeely ∀ll there is to sey, ox.

723 <(current)> 725> Sewage treatment log 2002–2005: soda pop criminals posting Last Throes of the White Towel
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