Yes, you heard it here first folks. Jon Frum apparently is no longer dead.
By-standers to all of this crazy news flip flops, one after the other, they were truly stunned. They were cognitively over-whelmed, shaking their heads like flies just sprayed with an evil and highly efficient neuro-toxin, sprayed into the atmosphere as a mist that lies waiting for unsuspecting flies. Yes, those flies were shaking and sputtering.
"Spray em Good," said the old time commercials. "Knock em dead quick. Before they multiply. And then you really have yourself an infestation."
The reason why these people were confused was actually very simple. It was because they were trying to learn more then 7 things at the same time. And then retain it all in their short term memory. In their feeble monkey brain short term memory.
And it just wasn't working. They just could not make it happen.
It was all too much. Too much to process. Too much to take in.
Information overload. They had over loaded the system. Over loaded their system. Pushed things too far.
A few overly sensitive individuals in that crowd lost control They literally shit in their pants over everything that was happening way way way to fast. Too fast for them.
After they recovered their senses, everyone immediately rushed to their computer screens to log onto their online banking and brokerage accounts, where they leaped into a frenzy of online buying and selling. Brisk frantic commerce. Bet the house and double down.
"Get out of the system Mabel. Quick! Get out fast. Before it's too late. Before they have you locked in. Into their system. Into their game. Playing by their rules."
An ocean of commerce, and these frantic individuals were adrift in that ocean, throwing out dollars like chum for fish you wanted to hook in the mouth, reel in, and then club in the head. You wanted to knock them dead quick, before they bit your finger or ripped open an artery and you bled out to death over a stupid fishing trip you didn't even want to take in the first place.
The talking heads on the news explained it all. Told their version of reality over and over until it made sense. And by golly it did. It just made sense. Just like they said it did.
A new medical procedure called ‘arising from the dead’ was performed on Jon Frum after he was taken from this life by the Angel of Death. And that radical and experimental medical procedure apparently worked.
Much to the consternation of the Angle of Death. It was extremely pissed off. And concerned about what this implied for future 'taking of souls'.'
The tv talking heads assured us all was well.
"Jon Frum is safe. He is now resting comfortably at an un-disclosed location. Under the care of Witness Protection. To keep everyone safe.
Like you buddy. We're looking after you.
So don't you be giving us no guff. Keep your lip shut."
The business section and associated tv talking heads and AI-Bot pundits all were abuzz over this new opportunity to milk the public. To rape them of their earnings. To squeeze their hard earned dollars from their savings accounts and then throw it away like candy wrappers (or any other appropriate metaphor you can care to insert in here).
YoooTuber loud mouth and all around asshole 'Biz Smartz' had a boat load to say about it all in his nightly 'All the Gossip that's Fit to Gossip About' news cast, called 'The Daily Event'.
It was called 'The Daily Event' because, you know, it was important. Or so they told me when i contacted them for background info for this segment of the cable access program. And i believed them. Because they seemed like nice people. And nice people never lie.
That's what my Mama told me. She said, "nice people never lie."
And i live my life with that proverbial saying as my mantlepiece. My psychic rock. The place i go to when they say 'find your personal special place and go there'. You know, in Buddhist motivational seminars. Or in the back room of Arbys before they let you out onto the main floor to sell the product. The beef. That's what people want, the beef. They gotta have that beef.
And the slogan they taught us at Arby's Training Academy, held deep in the Inner Empire at a rent by the hour office facility. It was a slogan of hope, a slogan of promise, a slogan of a full belly after you ate it. It was the slogan of dinner served you miserable slob, pony up and get some.
We'd look em in the eyes, pause for a moment to hook em, then tell em straight out.
"We have the meat."
Biz Smartz had this astute business analysis he had come up with that discussed all of this and much more, available to download for $9.95 a month, plus any additional local taxes and VAT charges.
"Galax Therapeutics hopes to commercialize the ‘miracle’ cure. And it will be billable to your insurance provider. Of that they assured us.
No worries people. We have things under control. We're keeping it tight. Close to the chest. We want to help you all get closer. Closer together. Closer to each other. To breath in each other's breath.
To savor the glistening sweat floating through the air as tiny particles, lit by the sun from the window. Watch it float through the air, headed for our open mouths.
This cure is a gift from heaven. This cure is a miracle."
Some suspect the miracle cure is a gift from the StarGate. Just a taste of the wondrous super swell things to come. As cargo.
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