Bored Orcas

By | 1 February 2015

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This is your habitus speaking. You can look but not touch. The longest time you can look is four to five seconds. Any longer look will be considered ogling. When you shake hands, allow no more than two or three seconds. After that, any touching becomes sexual. The palm leaves a faint residue of oil and salt that can damage even the hardest surface.


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The end of civilization will be marked by a series of cataclysmic events: the icecaps melting, a rogue wave (really a tsunami), an earthquake, forest fires, a global monetary crisis, tornados (tractor trailers, grand pianos flying through the air).

The past ahead of us, the future far behind. Uranium and plutonium.

Only the Internet will survive. Save? No.


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A dog ran up to him, started to lick his face…

Everyone should have their own pet, especially one from a shelter. Everyone should have something to stroke, to fondle.


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Share the road with animals, share the planet with animals… Sure, but they will always remain predatory and rapacious, despite our best attempts to domesticate them. (Google “bored orcas.”) For this reason we now have bigger cages in zoos.

What a disgusting, vile-looking fly!


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The person you pass on the street may be a fascist, a torturer, a bigot, a child molester, a psychopath, a satanist, an assassin, an alien.

For instance, this elderly woman at the bus stop: “I remember music. I remember clouds. I remember when people actually swam in the ocean.”

You keep on walking, your fists clenched intelligently.


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The barbarians – yes, always a kind of solution.


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We don’t want old people, with their wool sweaters and cocoon sunglasses, on our fast-speed boats. Let them stay at home and collect anniversary coins. We have the right to our amusements, our orgasms.

We don’t want fat people to sit next to us on a plane. We don’t want the homeless to sleep our newly repainted park benches. The stench their bodies produce… When I say such things, I’m aware I sound like a bigot.

We blame the fat for being fat, the homeless for being homeless. The homeless know this. They go back to their mansions, remove their rags, take a shower. They deposit their money in the bank. The fat take off their body suits.


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Stop only for ambulances and caravans.


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Check your account daily, your pulse hourly. Watch these ads carefully. Do not cross median. Take responsibility for your actions (feelings).

Eventually your computer will know whether it’s you or someone pretending to be you.


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A kind man with bad breath: “We should put these people in special camps, where they can be taught to appreciate great literature and music, especially classical music. A little Mozart never hurt anybody. Their children should be sent on field trips to Civil War battlefields. They should be taken to galleries and museums and introduced to famous works of art. If you believe in education, you must believe in reeducation.


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Be careful not to click twice. You will be charged twice.


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No one likes being rained on, spat on. Payphones, mailboxes, antennas… The map says: You are here.

On the bus, the insane, the homeless, the addicts, and the working poor. On the phone, “This is Charity speaking.”

At the stop, you give all your change to the homeless.


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Chances of being in a plane crash are infinitesimally small, yet almost every day a plane crashes somewhere in the world. In most aviation accidents, a number of things have to go wrong. Until the final report comes in, we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions. Then the flight attendants started chanting: “Brace! Brace!”


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Please do not listen to this message if you are not the person we are calling. Please call back if this is a wrong number.


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Spy masters read spy novels, football players play football video games. Firefighters fire petards at a political rally in Seville (2010). In America, politicians hold a golf summit (2011). Put politicians on minimum wage and see how fast things change, says a graffito on the Internet. In the museum, white dots on a white wall. We thought it was a part of the stunt.

TV reporters talk to each other (“Back to you, Anderson”). In the movie, a flight attendant takes over for the pilots who have suddenly fallen sick. First the candidate engaged in a debate with his foreign-policy aide, then the two men switched sides and argued opposite positions. I’ve always liked The Surprise Symphony. Is this real world or exercise?

Confusing fiction with reality, I once punched a guy who had insulted me in a dream. I once dropped a lighter into a sewer and, as I was trying to recover it, I realized that I had watched exactly the same scene in Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train. “Like the sensation of being followed…” I’ve never seen so much real world stuff happening during an exercise.

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