dreamstate writing 26 Sep 2017

I was walking down a busy boulevard (similar to Hollywood, at Cherokee) when I felt compelled to leave it and use the restroom in a tastefully restored, three-storey-tall, red-brick building off to my right-hand side. The building appeared to house a discothek of sorts, with many people entering and exiting it, and music emanating from within. As I stepped over its threshold I noticed that bricks of raised, white, translucent Chinese hanzi writing-characters had been laid in intricate patterns over many of the bricks, covering most walls from floor to ceiling. The individual, mostly meter-tall hanzi were connected to one another with tapering, starburst-like trails of white and translucent bricks.

Making my way through the central dance-floor, past many happy guests, I entered the well-lit men’s facilities at the rear, whose walls were lined with yellowish-white tiles. Desiring privacy, I opened the doors to both water-closets at the back of this room, only to find sit-down toilets on raised platforms crammed into tiny rooms into which I did not feel like going, as they were dark and terribly close.

Turning instead to a bank of sinks and mirrors on the other wall, I had a conversation with some people milling about there, then exited the restroom into a rear performance space in which a man was playing a keyboard and singing, accompanied by another artist playing the drums. Excited at the quality of the music, I loosed a loud war-whoop, startling many of the black-clad guests who seemed to be enjoying the show (with their backs turned toward me), at which point I was approached by an usher in a black jacket with red lapels who grabbed my left elbow and started leading me to an open hangar door that gave out onto a side road. Halfway there, I shook off his grasp, telling him to not touch me, then mockingly asked him if I had to leave through the hangar door or if I could use the same door through which I’d entered. Realizing that I had offended him, I bowed to him with hands pressed together at the heart, a Thai wai. He stayed silently at my left-hand side, looking at me with widened eyes, until I returned to the land of mortal consciousness - and the pressing need to urinate.

As soon as I lay back down in bed after having finished voiding my bowels in the temporal commode, my alarm-clock rang, signaling the start of morning practices.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

Grigovian team deployed

At the behest of the Arab League and with the intention of helping end the civil war in Syria, the Glorious Republic of Grigovia sent a highly decorated team of veteran negotiators to bring both sides of the conflict to the table. “In addition to the team of negotiators, other Grigovian teams will be helping to patrol Syria's borders in order to prevent more Saudi Arabian black operations teams from launching any more gas attacks against innocent civilians,” said Heirdoyesst Ont, head of Grigovia's Foreign Assistance Board. Experts expect the war in Syria to end only when American, British, and Israeli intervention in the internal conflict also ends.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥

local minds blown

This past weekend, the sight of three men walking along the side of Route 30 was all it took to blow the minds of the people of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The townspeople stared, honked, swerved, honked again, and stared some more, flabbergasted that three healthy-looking, employed-looking, and respectable-looking individuals would dare to move their bodies by muscle-power six tenths of a mile down the road to a local eatery, where they were reported to have eaten a hearty breakfast.

Gettysburgians appear to be so accustomed to driving everywhere, so used to seeing only dirty and unwashed vagrants physically walking on the sides of roads, that the actions of these three apparently confused, seemingly car​-less individuals shattered the locals' views of the universe itself, a universe which runs on fossil fuels pumped from the ground by terrorism-supporting Arabs living on the other side of the globe. “We could see the restaurant from our hotel-room window, up on the third floor,” said one of the pedestrians, who asked to remain anonymous. “And we did consider driving, but, as we all agreed, we needed to work off some of the residual booze from the previous nights and to kick-start our metabolisms, which were struggling after a long weekend of drinking.”

Each of the three individuals stands over six foot and two-inches tall, and each is muscular and physically imposing, which, when viewed side by side, may have made them appear freakishly tall; and while two of the three are Americans of African Descent (AOAD), the third is an American of European Descent (AOED), which compelled the men – who while perambulating discussed the locals' strange behavior – to rule out blatant, uncalled-for racism, for which the area is, however, known. “As with many strange things that happen in life, having people flash their brights at us, honk at us, and yell out their cars' windows at us, for no reason other than that we were walking along the side of a road, is something that we must simply accept in our hearts as inevitable,” said another of the individuals, who is expecting his second child. “I went to college here for four years, and we just dropped fifty bones on breakfast. Just because we decided to get some exercise before eating does not mean that we are worth less than people who decided to drive around, being fat. Fucking small towns, man – most times, they suck.”

場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit

americansFIRST

  I am hereby announcing a new nomenclature for all Americans, one that, by addressing the individual directly and his or her status as a member of this nation before addressing his or her race or skin color, will hopefully be a more equalizing and egalitarian form of address than the forms in use currently.

  Instead of saying African-Americans, or referring to people whose skin color is somewhat darker than that of the majority, as "black," let us refer to them as "Americans of African descent." Instead of saying "whites," let us refer to these people as Americans of European descent (their skin color is more pink than white, anyway). In cases where there are multiple origins of descent, let us say Americans of Mixed descent.

  Since we Americans have a hard time abandoning completely the use of "race" as a primary identifier, perhaps this new nomenclature can help smooth our transition to a more egalitarian coexistence.

  Spes Mea In Ratio Est – 場黑麥 John Paul Roggenkamp