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Body and Mind, Soulless as You Wish

The Kansas City Health Department would rather poison food intended for starving homeless people than provide charitable allowances for permit-free food-handling. The chances that anything was wrong with the food is negligible, but these self-righteous pricks on the government payroll would rather empty gallons of bleach all over what might’ve been the only nourishing sustenance some of their neighbors would know for days. Nobody sincerely enters politics because they have a big heart, and the only persons who work for the government are those without skill. Heartlessness and idiocy share a huge crossover, so big you could easily hide all the bodies. To paraphrase John Cougar, “Ain’t that America?”

For those lulled by shallow comfort into blindness, Julia Bradshaw authorizes a paid advert for a new product, an obesity pill, designed to expand exponentially following consumption so that stomachs no longer have the room to be filled properly. People will soon be mauled to physical death in stores across the country for the sake of Black Friday “sales” because no longer having easy access to a thing makes one calmly reconsider other options. I learned a long time back that the most common side effects from antidepressants are stomach aches, because the chemicals the drugs are designed to interact with are not always exclusive to the brain. Maybe, if we’re really lucky, these obesity pills will contain chemicals which by extension poison the brains into a never-ending hunger that pervades beyond death and we finally get a decent zombie apocalypse out of the deal. Let them eat bleached white bread.

So in the land of plenty only those willing to play the game are permitted to eat, and if some parties feel the need to go about it all wrong, then there’s a pill for that, to help their bodies stay as obsessive-compulsively focused in the game as their dilapidated minds. A new chemical reflex, if you will and please, say you will. It would mean so much to the many hard-working pharmacologists, technologists and futurists mindlessly working to eradicate their own species with utmost efficiency. On that note, San Diego State University psychology professor Jean Twenge hits every nail squarely on the head regarding widespread, undeniable effects of smart-phones and online social media upon the youngest generations. Anybody feeling otherwise should honestly try trotting anywhere further than the snack machine sometime. The electric pablum, homogenizing soft grey matter into marketable byproducts like lead into gold while the tenured philosophers are too stoned to take note. I mean, along with a number of titles which strangely preluded the death of Stan Lee, I just wrote about the dangers of connecting brains to gadgets. If products lived up to their hype then they’d never require marketing. And even today, we know so little about the brain and how exactly it does the things that it does.

Jeff Parsons reports on employers of hundreds of thousands of people who are eager to inject them one and all with microchips. As has been commonly done to stray mutts for more than 20 years now, but with extra bells and whistles and cancers. It undoes cyberpunk as a valid sub-genre when the tech is forced upon us just to keep getting paychecks, when the trade where getting paid to have something put into you is probably a field other than what these employees tell themselves they do for a living.

Lauren Fruen reports on Samsung, the registered trademark-holder for exploding hardware, and the company’s announcement of ambitious new tests to manufacture smart-TVs that can be mentally-controlled. But with the change from analogue to digital, smart-TVs are currently two-way mirrors as well as recording devices, and, knowing that all electronic devices can and will potentially get hacked, non-consumers can rest assured knowing that the double meaning of “TV programming” will continue to be on point.

Stephen Shankland reports on technological efforts to put AI into toilets, thus creating the wholly unasked-for invention of smart-bogs, so that when the TV-controlled mind of the consumer gets flushed into the AI-controlled porcelain driving wheel, the chemically-burnt remnants of the consumerist brain can then be studied to verify mandated designer drug intake and then tracked as the cerebral waste enters public water-works to either be recycled with more chemicals into fresh drinking waters or deposited out into the ocean where eventually it will cross waves with Fukushima radiation and grow into giant, self-moving piles of rankness. Similar to The Blob or the better knock-off The Stuff but earthier, cornier and loaded with not broken dreams but broken nightmare where the shared conscious of pasteurized cerebellum bits of the always-right customers mashed together like potatoes helplessly engage memories of the absolute worst things each personage had ever experienced. Until the perpetual acid rain cleanses them into the sod or a nuclear holocaustic winter blasts their atoms up into the thunderclouds to then become the acid rains themselves. In a society where the TV clicker is in the mind, nobody sharing living quarters will again be able to hide their porn preferences.

No coincidence the homeless’ll get off scott free in this. Members of collective, proper society have every reason to know full well what you sign up for, just as a great many homeless know precisely what they are willfully not signing up for. But as we all know the homeless are less than the common man because they don’t need obesity pills to be invented on their behalf and they’ve nowhere to put a home recording studio entertainment center.