haiku 10 February

For a good clean drunk

Do like the beasts do and

Eat some rotten fruit. [ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]

housecat yawns sleepily

Visibly tired from doing absolutely nothing during the previous day but eat, sleep, and void her bowels, local housecat Pebbles yawned, just now. Pushing her whiskers forward as the nictitating membranes below her eyelids shot quickly back, the lazy feline wrenched her lower jaw downward as the tendons in her neck pulled mightily at the skin of her face. The maneuver completed, Pebbles licked her chops, looked around the room for a moment, then flipped partly upside-down and went back to sleep.

Earlier in the morning, Pebbles had draped herself across the floor in front of the door to the room of the first person to usually wake up, hoping to ambush him as soon as possible. Upon having guessed right, the cat loosed a garbled meow, sprang to her feet, then ran back and forth in front of his feet in an apparent attempt to lure him into following her to her food dish, which was however already part full. Upon finding dry food in the dish, she settled in to eat some of it, forgetting that anything or anyone else existed in the whole Universe.

Before going back to sleep for the seventh time in two hours, she spent a few moments staring at a wall, then licked her own asshole clean for an entire quarter hour.

americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan

on easy living

Attention, citizens of America: keep doing that to which you are accustomed; do not alter your ways; do not conserve resources; do not research and implement in your own lives methods for sustainable or self-sufficient living. Let not your minds be filled with worry, nor pay any heed to the fear-mongers spreading false intelligence about environmental degradation, the worldwide depletion of nutrients from the soil, the rapid extinction of species large and small, massive crop failures, algal blooms that suffocate all other sea-life, or reports of a garbage patch the size of continental Europe floating in the Pacific Ocean. You must do nothing to save fair Columbia – she who is our common, tender motherland – or to rejuvenate her paved-over soil, her once-clean rivers, her now-contaminated lakes, her exploited meadows, her clear-cut forests, her mono-cultured fields, or her cities that creep and sprawl like fungi out into their once-abundant surroundings.

Do not plant your own victory garden, do not ride a bicycle, do not turn off lights when they are not needed, do not entertain yourselves, do not criticize your elected officials, do not reduce, reuse, or recycle, do not turn off your car's engine if it should idle longer than thirty seconds, do not close your house's windows when running the air-conditioning, do not gather electricity from the sun, do not mow your lawn using muscle-power, and do not put on a sweater instead of turning on your furnace. All you must do – and all that is expected of you – is to buy food made by someone you shall never meet, to cast your ballot in elections that you are powerless to truly sway, to wave a plastic, Chinese-made American flag when you are told to wave it, to watch TV for more than an hour a day, to shop at stores (the big discount retailers) that cut costs by supporting slavery in Africa, Asia, and South America, to fear foreigners, immigrants, and the phantom threat of terrorism, to relinquish your rights by continuing to support the anti-patriotic, freedom-destroying Patriot Act, to fill your car's tank with terrorism-funding, war-necessitating gasoline, to contract diabetes and other diseases by eating too much food, and to lead a generally leisure-filled, comfortable life that amounts to little more than sloth.

Please, do not worry, citizens of America – because your pastor tells you not to, because your politician tells you not to, because advertisers tell you not to. Do not even try to break the chains and shackles of your self-imposed slavery to conspicuous consumption, to the hollow notion of convenience, and to the idea that someone else is going to fix your problems for you. Do nothing, please, but kick back in your foreign-made recliner, wearing your Bangladeshi-sweatshop-made clothes, sipping from an imported plastic cup a brew of artificial colors mixed with refined corn sugar, and watch as the world burns around you.

場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit