| 01/07 |
...a
move to the west coast suits our hero fine, as he begins
to give up on convincing everyone that a mad plot has
been unleashed against the world, and divorce himself
from the madness that is nyc, that is to say the glittering
decay that is nyc, the rotten cherry-pit heart of capitalism
and materialism and self-concern that is nyc; the souring,
egocentric core of our profit system, ripe and replete
with the roaches and locusts that are those puppetmasters
and opportunists and exploiters who tread upon the poor
and downtrodden, their victims the very ones who provide
means of the elites' differentiating themselves up onto
that which is known as the upper crust and whom it all
benefits— ....a deadly, dangerous, draining trap
that our protagonist misses dearly, sorely, achingly,
misses with all the sweetness that his fly-ridden caramel
stretch of soul can afford to forfeit in such an uneven
exchange of psychic energy....
and meanwhile, joaquin studies
a few choice opportunities, dives into his new book,
and soaks up the sunshine. At no point does he believe
one word the government spews onto the superdisinformation
highway, and At every opportunity, he smiles at his
unflagging refusal to remain hypnotized or surrender
his joy.
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