photosynthetica: swim, ophelia!

12:05 PM Eastern Standard Time: the Muslims have vanished. Check for yourself if you don’t believe me. Where have they gone to?

There is speculation, of course. Scientists mention a cosmic storm that passed the Earth on January twentieth. A man says they are all in caves. Certain groups lament a faulty Rapture. A woman says he has taken their power and absorbed it into himself. She means Barack Obama. I doubt it, but he does seem somehow taller. The ground rumbles at times. The breaking news says WASHINGTON DC, with red concentric circles. I’m uneasy, but what can we do? Terror is defeated and if Obama were a Muslim, he’d be just as gone as them. There’s no cause for alarm.

Within months, Barack Obama has declared a war on vague unease. It’s a good idea, because frankly we could all use some peace of mind. Approval rating is higher than ever now that the Muslims had left, but I don’t think we are happy yet. His eyes are shining sometimes, as a deer’s eyes shine in a flashlight beam. Small fissures criss-cross the pavement. Trees are swaying, but the breeze is gone. Something is changing in our world.

Aeroplanes don’t exist anymore. Scientists explain that the density of the air is too low to support their wings. Then how do we breathe?! We should have died by now, but I think we are evolving. Our bodies haven’t changed, but the atmosphere..

One man says it was the Rapture after all, and we have since entered the Kingdom of God. Barack is now the size of an oak tree. He sleeps outside since the rains have ceased, and his skin is thick to bullets. Now he wanders through the countryside impassively. He ignores a rural photo-op.

He studies a leaf for twenty days.

Only a fool would call this Heaven.

Satellites fall to earth like rain used to. No friction burns them away, so we trudge past countless flecks of solar panel and ribbons of golden cloth. It’s a silent car crash every few hours, though cars themselves no longer run. No oxygen remains to ignite their fuel. Obama strides across the landscape, taller than the Freedom Tower. We’ve given up on assassination; all men are immortal now, and guns no longer fire.

I’m starting to wish the Muslims were back.

We found them with a telescope. Images of a colony on the right side of the moon. See the parts that jut from the lower right? I think they’re mosques. Soon they are visible to the naked eye, but how? Their cities are enormous. We watch them as they live and die. They have our former atmosphere; the moon is fringed with blue. “Look at how they wield their guns,” writes a man. “I always said he’d take our guns away.” They eat and sleep like we once did, building worthless ziggurats. We have everything we wanted, but oh how we envy their strife!

It’s long been clear that Obama brought this uncomfortable perfection upon us, but I can’t bring myself to blame him for it. He’s reminded us all of how our lives had been discarded out of fear. I know now why he grows each day. In time, when we are ready he will reach out into space. He will raise us up in his great hand, to this new Earth that gleams like a frozen star. And if Obama does not carry us, we can climb…

my past self is a genius, apparently

a cold snap has hit here, just like everywhere else, it seems. because of the single-digit degree readings, i’ve had to break out the heavy winter weather gear. most especially notable being my hand-me-down army field jacket of cold resistance. i’ve not had to use it since i weathered a new yorkian winter solo. although, when going through the pockets, i happened upon a message apparently written by me, to myself in the future. upon the back of this reciept for a single pack of ramen noodles (betraying the scarcity and hardship of that time in my life) was written:

do not try and find the path. you are always on it.

strangely inspiring words from myself in the past. i have a habit of when i am in a bad state of mind, or am having some troubling times, that i will write messages to myself, to be forgotten about, rediscovered, and read at an unspecified later date. i find this interesting because i am literally communicating messages to myself across the gulfs of time. i am not the same person i was when i bore through the cold, wintry fist of my first northeastern winter, and yet the wisdom and new knowledge i was gaining then are always good to remember. a simple slip of paper can remind me of those moments of clarity in knowledge that i live for.

my favorite, though, by far of all these, was another slip of paper discovered in the bottom of my backpack, worn from years of forgotten lying underneath books and notepads and clothing. it read:

see what the future holds by the light of all your burning bridges.

i keep it in my wallet now, behind my license. strange little moments of self-gained, self-inspiring wisdom. brought to adam by adam, for adam. it’s a nice system.

things i have learned from watching black lagoon:

• at least one of every category is required: fully-automatic assault rifle, high-powered, armor-piercing sniper rifle, dual high-caliber handguns, bladed weapons
• american spirits are the cigarette of choice for mercenaries
• shoulder holsters are bad ass as fuck
• apathy is the best policy in a gunfight
• tattoos are required to be considered as someone with whom not to fuck
• sunglasses are always awesome, the more strange and unique, the more dangerous the individual
• when in doubt, just rely on berserk rage to see you through any situation
• only bad guys wear suits
• long hair or no hair, nothing in between
• the more unlikely the opponent, the more dangerous and heavily-armed they are likely to be (see example episode: the unstoppable chambermaid)
• everybody’s got a dark past that they are trying to come to grips with

i gotta get some weapons, for real

i suppose if you were a turkey, today would be black thursday

meeting with the family: always a strange and unrewarding experience. oh, you want to know if i’m incredibly successful yet and then frown upon me when i say i am not? excellent. guilt trips abound - everything from not seeing family members often enough to not finishing school yet.

at least it only happens once a year.

tomorrow: black friday. the day where everyone gets together to worship at the altar of the gods of capitalism. so many great deals, though. however, i will be celebrating tomorrow by sleeping in, and probably eating hot pockets.

all in all, consumer hordes vs a chill day at home enjoying solitude: i’ll pick a trip to chilladelphia any day of the week