Margorie Dennison or Current Occupant,

I have an idea that will change your world! I dreamt last night of pearls. Pearls deposited by a a burrowing pearl worm. A grub, with the ass-end of a bot fly, the thorax of a grass hopper and a head resembling a large ant. It is roughly an inch and a half long when they insert it under your skin. it makes its home there, the same way that weevils do under the bark of a tree. There, unknown to all but you, it grows dozens of beautiful pearls. For a low price, we can install it, and you can hold on to it for as long as you like. Its an investment! The pearl bug can deposit pearls for years. Its a retirement opportunity! Imagine the looks on your grandchildren's faces when you tell them where that necklace came from!

We look forward to hearing from you!

Alpine Dental Group

+++ +++ +++

Dearest Elizabeth,

The pigs can be lazy cunts all day and toss shit from their ivory tower but a revolutionary has to be disciplined, has to push against the current, has to deny themselves all luxuries and punish themselves for acting out of pleasure rather than principle. the revolutionary is a machine carved out of principles. Moral code combining to govern a body 24 hours a day. The revolutionary is supposedly unrelatable for this reason, supposedly they exist in the rarified air of saints and intellectuals. Meanwhile the gangster state has no thinking to do, just following its mouth as it consumes everything it sees and takes the easiest route at all times.

The revolutionary is supposed to be driven by logic, striving against all the urges of the body. While the pig is driven by basic impulses at the expense of the people and the earth. This is garbage. Construct a revolutionary driven by real forces for once. Movements arise when you get that right. Hunger, lust, greed drive people. What is logic? Logic is how we eat. The pig is the obstacle to our eating and fucking and self respect. Construct a revolutionary that breeds admiration in others, fights and laughs, attractive, deadly.

Your friend,

Sam

+++ +++ +++

Greetings.

Recent events and no small social pressure have prompted me to bequeath the public with my knowledge of ongoing inquiries into the nature and inner workings of the infernal homosexual. As an experienced lover and expert in the more general field of gynecology I felt I should have something to say on the matter of this set of social diseases and their relationship to morality and education. Since we as a society have fallen so far as to require a pubic dissertation on the matter I suppose it falls on me to set things as right as they can be under such morbid circumstances. My concern is not only for those wretched beings who copulate without the consent of the church but also those who twist the meaning of marriage itself. To imply that the wholesome production of workers and soldiers and leaders is not the sole purpose of penetration is a fundamentally immoral act. It baffles me that anyone could advocate the sexual act as a pleasurable experience by itself without productive value.

It is only through the miracle of productive labor that sexual activity is redeemed.

The burden of injection of various fluids of vital origin belongs to the man. These fluids regulate and discipline the fallow organs of females such that the reproductive process is instantiated. A man must discipline his body and mind to produce good and vital fluids or risk the production of malformed and deviant offspring, such as for instance homosexuals. This is best accomplished through the invigorating effect of hard labor, the transcendental experience of victory on the battlefield, or an Ivy League education.

If after these trials, a man tosses his seed like the biblical Onan upon the ground then it is simply a shame and a waste of his own time. However, the homosexual is not content to defile the Earth as Rome to Carthage. He is beset by unnatural urges to seed bodies which can not possibly produce normal children. This leaves his wife utterly disarranged, and worse. Without the law of production applied to the sexual act, the door is open to ravage infertile wives whether old or young. Unlike their fertile counterparts, these wives will suffer for nothing. Their organs will be unbalanced and develope cancers, rather than workers, homosexuals rather than soldiers, and instead of leaders you shall have nincumpoops, thus named after the formation of a humunculous in the anal cavity.

Heed me well! In only a few generations of this behavior, the entire edifice of our society shall suffer such significant setbacks that it will become impossible to prevent the complete overthrow of the white race and Christian Law.

Salutations,

Gaylord Bussy Johnson

+++ +++ +++

Karl,

When you dream, what am I doing?

Sincerely,

Frank

+++ +++ +++

Dolph Lundgren stars in this gritty remake of the 1963 classic crime drama "Flipper". Still bitter after the murder of his partner, Flipper (Lundgren) prefers to work alone. "I work alone," is what he says when the chief of police, (played by Danny Devito) assigned Sandy (Jason Momoa) to be his new partner. After a rough start (Sandy spills the coffee) the gritty veteran and his plucky sidekick form an unbreakable bond, as they face down a brutal criminal organization. During a raid on an illegal fishing ship, Flipper loses control when they discover that the ship's enslaved crew has been harvesting dolphins. Soon, the unlikely duo is diving headfirst into a bone chilling plot that strikes at the heart of America itself. The New York Times calls it "a mind bending adventure to the dark heart of the beach life." "An action packed thriller of the most profound variety," Roger Ebert shortly before entering a coma induced by a lethal overdose of vicodin and vodka.

+++ +++ +++

My Darling Harold,

Roads are a self maintaining system of jobs that produce votes. Most infrastructure is explainable as a series of side effects. We should take a closer look at the physical infrastructure of our society through an environmental lens. Many people look at a steel mill and think of the toxic gas it emits into the air, and the cancerous slag it dumps into the water. We make an instinctual connection and we imagine that we breath that gas, and drink that water. We think of dismantling of these steel mills. We think of containing them, regulating them, bounding them by filters and rules and barriers of memory. We do not often enough think of how the land managed to produce these structures. We do not think of them in the same way we think of a hill, or a river. I feel like this is a mistake. We are perfectly capable of building hills and diverting rivers.

I understand the difference in scale and complexity. We raise tree farms where we cut down ancient forests. The complexity lost is staggering. But there is still complexity! We live in an era of mass extinction. But the slow process of speciation is occuring now, as always. A forest is a vast library of biological information. To lose a forest is to lose at least tens of thousands of years of lived experience. To quantify such a loss, perhaps we could compare the storage space on a computer it would take to host the genome of a forest as compared to the gigabytes of information we could store on the paper we mill from that same forest. You, assuming you are human, are roughly 800Mb of data in this regard, a bit less than 1 Gb. Thats just the base pairs of your genetic code, listed as 2bit format, from one end of the helix to the other. Obviously, this data structure doesn't encompass all there is to know about you. Genetic information may correspond to the structure of a voice box, but it has no bearing on what language you learn to speak. There is a distinction between these complex structures. your genetic map may be complete, but there is more to know about you.

Viewing industry by its economic inputs and outputs is like this also. Nobody is their job. An industry is a whole lot of nobodies. All of those nobodies have desires, narratives, individuality. We choose for the most part not to look at these people on an individual basis because they are supposed to be boring and unpleasant. It would be easier if they were boring and unpleasant, and some are. So we remember those, and polite intellectuals tell themselves that the honest hard working proletariat is noble and good, and less polite people talk about how technicians are all sexist morons who deserve to be treated like cattle, and engineers are softhanded hitlers all seething for control at the expense of their own humanity, and the middle-management is gray-man nothing people, and the owners are actually vampires who feed upon the blood of children. An industry supposedly is the sum of these things, none of which are true*.

These people, whose job has consumed so much of their life, are supposed to have never consumed any of their job. The first shift arrives and the third shift leaves. The job is supposed to stay at the job. It isn't supposed to come home with you. But dont you contaminate the job also? Doesn't being there make it more like you? If what once was a forest is laid out in the lumber yard, so too are the hours of our lives spend milling the wood. So much of the data is still there, in the wood, still available. We are still here when the jobs go over seas and the forest returns to consume the mill. Only our time is exported. This is what an industry is. Like Soylent Green, it is made of people. Our lives have only ever had a little to do with the great movements of materials and energy.

So, what is a steel mill? and how can we eat it?

With Love Always,

Caroline

PS I said it wasnt true but I'll make an exception about the owners being vampires. But even THEY have other characteristics!

+++ +++ +++

"On that day when there is no snake, when there is no scorpion, when there is no hyena, when there is no lion, when there is neither dog nor wolf, when there is thus neither fear nor trembling, man has no rival! At such a time, may the lands of Šubur and Ḫamazi, the many-tongued, and Sumer, the great mountain of the me of magnificence, and Akkad, the land possessing all that is befitting, and the Martu land, resting in security -- the whole universe, the well-guarded people -- may they all address Enlil together in a single language! For at that time, for the ambitious lords, for the ambitious princes, for the ambitious kings, Enki, for the ambitious lords, for the ambitious princes, for the ambitious kings, for the ambitious lords, for the ambitious princes, for the ambitious kings -- Enki, the lord of abundance and of steadfast decisions, the wise and knowing lord of the Land, the expert of the gods, chosen for wisdom, the lord of Eridug, shall change the speech in their mouths, as many as he had placed there, and so the speech of mankind is truly one."

PAID FOR BY CITIZENS AGAINST WIND POWER

KNOLLINSBURG TX

GARFIELD F.MORGENSEN, TREASURER