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By Gundhrams Hammer & Salvatore Scimino
October 1, 2013
Select, paste & translate
Warning: Unsustainable sex.
Nothing
changes, it only seems to change. This universe looks like an infinite machine smashing, churning and creating phantom energy fields called atoms
into myriads of shapes but nevertheless the sum of all its parts remains the
same.
But to perceive the change that does not change, we must change without changing to change what does not change to see the change without a change. Ecce the paradox!
It was around five in the morning when Constantine grabbed her from behind and nailed her. He was no carpenter whatsoever, yet millions of years of evolution had prepared his species very well for this DNA making task.
She woke up not because of the pleasure but by the pain she felt as she was stung by her knights´s mandhood penetrating the walls of her castle. Although her name was Candy, she did not enjoy that much candy. At least, Constantine´s candy.
He went easy on her at the beginning of his abnormal invasion. For an instant, he thought of his son, Fudge, who was sleeping next to their bedroom, a mellow cave where the usual morning rooster job was just taking place. Constantine did not want to wake up his son with the squeaks from the old iron bed.
It did not matter at all, for right at the very same moment Fudge was very concentrated making fudge, whittling away his favourite stick.
An unsustainable diet on meat and dairy with hormones and hamburgers with white bread kept him always on the go. The boy was only sixteen but he had already deposited hundreds of gooey threads of DNA, enough to go around the world a million times.
Constantine´s horse picked up its pace. Although it had been only a few seconds, the whole thing seemed to him an eternity. Nearing the end of his campaign, he could not contained his big bang any longer.
Soon he would create a new universe, for this time Candy would get candy with fertile microscopic snakes, ripe enough to make her have a baby nine months later.
One last spurring of the knight´s horse, thrusting deep into Candy´s castle sent Constantine to heavens or perhaps a future sustainable hell, for he was out of work.
It has been said that there is some sort of synchronicity in this universe. Perhaps it is true, for Fudge shot the computer screen full of porno images at the same time that his father fired his cannon.
After the submarines came to the surface, they left polluted waters. So the captains had to clean up the mess.
Since it was still very early in the morning, everybody went back to sleep.
Two hour later, the alarm clock kicked off, announcing to the lazy naked parents that it was time to get up to go to work.
A long day was waiting for Candy. As for Constantine, he had to go looking for a new job.
His boss had fired Constantine because he used to spend too much time sending mushy e-mails to his female workmates and watching porno instead of working on the company´s insurance stuff.
Fudge dragged himself out of bed, still sleepy like hell. But he had to pick up his ass if he wanted to be somebody in a society he hated.
The whole thing of education, getting a job and perhaps having a family seemed to him plain modern slavery. Fudge had given it some thought to this. And he felt he was damn right about it.
He was after all on the right track. This was the only right thing that Fudge would ever do, for his future life was going to be sour indeed. But this is another story.
Groggy and unhappy, with one yawn after another, accompanied with arm stretching, mother, father and son met at the dining table.
And this is without taking into account the couple of farts that Fudge flushed out of his itchy ass, making the room air so smelly that their pet dog named Whisper came running to see whether a rotten piece of meat had fell out of the magical icebox.
They had what you might call a light breakfast. An unsustainable breakfast, that is.
Fudge had juice made of oranges from Costa Rica. Constantine grabbed a cup of coffee from Vietnam and a toast of local transgenic wheat.
And Candy, on the other hand, even when she was supposed to be on a diet, went after some plasticized quick cereal and a mouldy scrambled egg left over from two previous nights, an avian unfertilised ovule that had popped out of the ass of a transgenic chicken kept in a fucking factory farm that had their neighbourhood smelling of shit.
The breakfast was as quick as they had done their usual morning acting on the theatre of their miserable and senseless life.
Next they ran for the front door and each one took their respective cars. This "developed" family was definitely abnormally unsustainable.
But there were other families that were even more unsustainable.
Three cars for a family was not the unusual thing around their suburbia. There were other families that had two or three vehicles per person, if you counted the RVs and motorcycles they had parked in the backyard. Fucking machines used for their summer trips to the beach or just for jacking around in the city.
Although Candy had her job only a couple of blocks away, she always took her car. She did not like to walk unless she was on the running conveyor belt in the gym, trying to lose some weight.
At home, she was constantly whimpering about an imaginary fatty belly and ass, so much so that Constantine was fucking fed up to hear such rubbish.
Whenever Candy went on this usual stupid rumbling of weight stuff, Constantine would leave home and head for the bar to drink a couple of beers with his buddies.
Of course, he too would always hopped into his car for such a short trip, just around the corner.
Fudge practically slept in his car. He had a convertible and he was in love with it. During the weekends he would shine it until the damn metal looked like a solar panel.
He was so infatuated with his damn four wheels that twice a week he would sleep in his car inside the garage, listening to punk music, dreaming of pretty girls and whacking his tool.
Such an unusual family, somebody would say from another perspective, had nothing unusual of the unusual stuff that usually made their life unusually usual in a society that has cultivated and patronised unusual consumption of usual and unusual things for the benefit of the owners of the unsustainable economy that the government was planning in making sustainable, just for the sake of appearance of doing things the sustainable unsustainable way.
Nothing changes, it is always the same stuff, the unsustainable disguised as sustainable.
At such pace of consumption there was no way scientists or governments would come up with a solution that had no other solution that to solve the solution of spending less of what would be the solution for a solution of a supposed solution for a style of life that had definitely no sustainable solution unless everybody reduced their squandering habits that had no solution for people that have no solution, for they are an unsolvable solution in a world where there are no solutions but only an illusion.
Such squandering people do not give a shit whether or not their lifestyles are sustainable or unsustainable.
After all, unsustainable families can only come up with unsustainable solutions. People with unsustainable habits are very unlikely to change their lifestyles unless they had a gun barrel pointing to their heads.
In a world of finite resources, man had better find another way of sex and development, another style of life.
Unsustainable sex and development as practiced by Homo insapiens today have to give way to a life as yet to be invented.
Because unsustainable human beings are only sustainable when they are dead. As fodder for the soil bacteria that do indeed work with their partners to keep the Biosphere of planet Earth alive, teeming with utterly wonderful biodiversity.
Man has so far become a black hole in his own backyard, Earth.
Will he unstuck out of his fucking suicidal trek?
But it looks like the unsustainable naked ape, the one that thinks of himself as the "crown of evolution", with his constant fucking as Constantine´s, which results in millions of unsustainable offspring, is going straight to hell.
Will the fallen angels welcome him in their burning pit?
Perhaps not, for humans have already surpassed all demons in matters of killing and torture of his brethren upon Earth, nonhuman (Video 1) and human (Video 2) alike.
But to perceive the change that does not change, we must change without changing to change what does not change to see the change without a change. Ecce the paradox!
It was around five in the morning when Constantine grabbed her from behind and nailed her. He was no carpenter whatsoever, yet millions of years of evolution had prepared his species very well for this DNA making task.
She woke up not because of the pleasure but by the pain she felt as she was stung by her knights´s mandhood penetrating the walls of her castle. Although her name was Candy, she did not enjoy that much candy. At least, Constantine´s candy.
He went easy on her at the beginning of his abnormal invasion. For an instant, he thought of his son, Fudge, who was sleeping next to their bedroom, a mellow cave where the usual morning rooster job was just taking place. Constantine did not want to wake up his son with the squeaks from the old iron bed.
It did not matter at all, for right at the very same moment Fudge was very concentrated making fudge, whittling away his favourite stick.
An unsustainable diet on meat and dairy with hormones and hamburgers with white bread kept him always on the go. The boy was only sixteen but he had already deposited hundreds of gooey threads of DNA, enough to go around the world a million times.
Constantine´s horse picked up its pace. Although it had been only a few seconds, the whole thing seemed to him an eternity. Nearing the end of his campaign, he could not contained his big bang any longer.
Soon he would create a new universe, for this time Candy would get candy with fertile microscopic snakes, ripe enough to make her have a baby nine months later.
One last spurring of the knight´s horse, thrusting deep into Candy´s castle sent Constantine to heavens or perhaps a future sustainable hell, for he was out of work.
It has been said that there is some sort of synchronicity in this universe. Perhaps it is true, for Fudge shot the computer screen full of porno images at the same time that his father fired his cannon.
After the submarines came to the surface, they left polluted waters. So the captains had to clean up the mess.
Since it was still very early in the morning, everybody went back to sleep.
Two hour later, the alarm clock kicked off, announcing to the lazy naked parents that it was time to get up to go to work.
A long day was waiting for Candy. As for Constantine, he had to go looking for a new job.
His boss had fired Constantine because he used to spend too much time sending mushy e-mails to his female workmates and watching porno instead of working on the company´s insurance stuff.
Fudge dragged himself out of bed, still sleepy like hell. But he had to pick up his ass if he wanted to be somebody in a society he hated.
The whole thing of education, getting a job and perhaps having a family seemed to him plain modern slavery. Fudge had given it some thought to this. And he felt he was damn right about it.
He was after all on the right track. This was the only right thing that Fudge would ever do, for his future life was going to be sour indeed. But this is another story.
Groggy and unhappy, with one yawn after another, accompanied with arm stretching, mother, father and son met at the dining table.
And this is without taking into account the couple of farts that Fudge flushed out of his itchy ass, making the room air so smelly that their pet dog named Whisper came running to see whether a rotten piece of meat had fell out of the magical icebox.
They had what you might call a light breakfast. An unsustainable breakfast, that is.
Fudge had juice made of oranges from Costa Rica. Constantine grabbed a cup of coffee from Vietnam and a toast of local transgenic wheat.
And Candy, on the other hand, even when she was supposed to be on a diet, went after some plasticized quick cereal and a mouldy scrambled egg left over from two previous nights, an avian unfertilised ovule that had popped out of the ass of a transgenic chicken kept in a fucking factory farm that had their neighbourhood smelling of shit.
The breakfast was as quick as they had done their usual morning acting on the theatre of their miserable and senseless life.
Next they ran for the front door and each one took their respective cars. This "developed" family was definitely abnormally unsustainable.
But there were other families that were even more unsustainable.
Three cars for a family was not the unusual thing around their suburbia. There were other families that had two or three vehicles per person, if you counted the RVs and motorcycles they had parked in the backyard. Fucking machines used for their summer trips to the beach or just for jacking around in the city.
Although Candy had her job only a couple of blocks away, she always took her car. She did not like to walk unless she was on the running conveyor belt in the gym, trying to lose some weight.
At home, she was constantly whimpering about an imaginary fatty belly and ass, so much so that Constantine was fucking fed up to hear such rubbish.
Whenever Candy went on this usual stupid rumbling of weight stuff, Constantine would leave home and head for the bar to drink a couple of beers with his buddies.
Of course, he too would always hopped into his car for such a short trip, just around the corner.
Fudge practically slept in his car. He had a convertible and he was in love with it. During the weekends he would shine it until the damn metal looked like a solar panel.
He was so infatuated with his damn four wheels that twice a week he would sleep in his car inside the garage, listening to punk music, dreaming of pretty girls and whacking his tool.
Such an unusual family, somebody would say from another perspective, had nothing unusual of the unusual stuff that usually made their life unusually usual in a society that has cultivated and patronised unusual consumption of usual and unusual things for the benefit of the owners of the unsustainable economy that the government was planning in making sustainable, just for the sake of appearance of doing things the sustainable unsustainable way.
Nothing changes, it is always the same stuff, the unsustainable disguised as sustainable.
At such pace of consumption there was no way scientists or governments would come up with a solution that had no other solution that to solve the solution of spending less of what would be the solution for a solution of a supposed solution for a style of life that had definitely no sustainable solution unless everybody reduced their squandering habits that had no solution for people that have no solution, for they are an unsolvable solution in a world where there are no solutions but only an illusion.
Such squandering people do not give a shit whether or not their lifestyles are sustainable or unsustainable.
After all, unsustainable families can only come up with unsustainable solutions. People with unsustainable habits are very unlikely to change their lifestyles unless they had a gun barrel pointing to their heads.
In a world of finite resources, man had better find another way of sex and development, another style of life.
Unsustainable sex and development as practiced by Homo insapiens today have to give way to a life as yet to be invented.
Because unsustainable human beings are only sustainable when they are dead. As fodder for the soil bacteria that do indeed work with their partners to keep the Biosphere of planet Earth alive, teeming with utterly wonderful biodiversity.
Man has so far become a black hole in his own backyard, Earth.
Will he unstuck out of his fucking suicidal trek?
But it looks like the unsustainable naked ape, the one that thinks of himself as the "crown of evolution", with his constant fucking as Constantine´s, which results in millions of unsustainable offspring, is going straight to hell.
Will the fallen angels welcome him in their burning pit?
Perhaps not, for humans have already surpassed all demons in matters of killing and torture of his brethren upon Earth, nonhuman (Video 1) and human (Video 2) alike.
WARNING: GRAPHIC IMAGES!
WARNING: GRAPHIC IMAGES!
Nowhere to go
but an unpredictable future in a Universe that does not go with a shit to send
any of its creations back into its everlasting recycling machine.
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